


The Fools of the World and the Flying Ship

by HarryThePrincess



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aristocracy, Hand Jobs, Hate to Love, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Older Liam, Pirates, Religion, Smut, Underage Zayn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarryThePrincess/pseuds/HarryThePrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is married to a woman he does not love, he hates cats and may have a thirst for adventure, Harry is surely the captain of this ship and has problems with plates, Liam must handle everything, Zayn is happy with his place and Niall just wanted to get away from the mainland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. P A R T    I

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Conquérir la mer](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/175501) by Amber. 



> It's been a very long while since I posted anything so I hope I'm not too dusty. I can't make any promises, chapters will be posted when they're finished which can take a while, I ain't gonna lie. But I hope you will appreciate this work, I am really excited because I have a big love story with pirates and boats, and I guess the sea. 
> 
> *Disclaimer* As you may have noticed in the tags, there will be graphic depictions of violence, as well as attempted rape so if these things trouble you, I advise you to read with caution (or to read another, more fluffy fic). I tried to write this fic as close to reality as possible (except for hygiene, my characters are way more clean than they should be), so sometimes it will be rough, not pretty to read but I hope you will enjoy it all the same.
> 
> I did a lot of research, especially on ship and the 17th century in general so I hope they will be no anachronism. Also English is not my native language so it is highly probable that there are mistakes, luckily they won't be enormous. So this fiction is just a translation of my "original" fic, which is in French so if some translations are weird or you can't comprehend what I was trying to say, just tell me and I'll try to make it more understandable. 
> 
> On this extremely long note, I will leave you to the actual reading part, hope you will enjoy this adventure.

[Playlist ](http://8tracks.com/libertad-d/pirates-and-mermaids)

The night would soon fall. Gradually, the streets darkened and the wind began to rise. Gaunt drops of rain fell here and there on the gray pavement of this London’s street. There were not a lot of people at this hour of the day. Only a man with a mule, which was dragging behind itself a heavy looking trolley. Louis hurried, caring for himself awkwardly under the thick leather of his small suitcase. The fabric of his jacket was thin and did not keep him warm. At that time, he regretted sending Theodore home, because he would have enjoyed the comfort of a car to go home.

But with a last consultation less than a ten minute walk from home, Louis had thought he could send his driver home. Where he knew awaited him, the two children of the man. His good heart would kill him, his wife often repeated. He hated to admit it because he did not have the greatest affection for his wife, but she was right.

Fortunately, Louis ends up in front of his small two-story house. Wedged between two houses, looking exactly like his, was the house of his wife and himself. He climbed the few steps to stand on the threshold of his door, away from the rain. And despite the cold, he decided not to enter right away. Because Louis was well aware that, as soon as he would cross the door, he shall not wait long to hear the inexcusable voice of his wife, contemptuous. Louis had never understood what Eleanor found so boring in him, which required her to despise him all the time and that, from day one.

Certainly their engagement had not been the happiest since they were not the result of love, but an agreement between two families of big names. Yet Louis find in himself a few attractive features that could please even the coldest of woman. First, he had a rather pleasant appearance. A significant size he was ready to admit, he had still a figure well proportioned, teeth that brought him a thousand compliments. He was not violent, nor was he abusing alcohol or gambling, serious in his work and always trying to bring happiness to his wife. However, she did not seem to take into account his efforts and stressed only the bad aspects of this union.  
The fact that Louis had never managed to give her a child after almost five years of marriage, did not help. The whole story was beginning to make people talk! And it was for Eleanor, another shame.

Little wonder, then, that Louis was according himself a few minutes to simply enjoy the quiet of the street. And during a moment, he allowed himself to dream. About a calm and serene home with no cranky wife to yell at him when he came home from a hard day. But soon he came back to his senses because he knew he was lucky that the Lord has given him such a woman. For though the young woman is not very cordial with him, the young doctor was well aware that she was a lady looked at and admired. Men and women, all were watching with bright eyes. She was a classy woman, a beauty not matched in their small community. Eleanor moreover, accorded herself all possible and unimaginable extravagances to stay on top of this fragile social ladder.

Dresses from Paris, shoes from Budapest, the finest perfumes, the most daring hairstyles. A prodigious indoors with the most begged furniture throughout London. Everything a good housewife wanted; divan, carpeting, curtains, chandeliers, lamp shades, quilts silks, silver chandeliers. All this, one could find it in their home. But that filled with happiness only his companion. Louis did not wish and do not need all these things. The Lord does not ask that he can live a comfortable life, but rather a pure and pious life. He did not like this house that is supposed to be his.

The cold starting to cripple his fingers, he gently opened the door in order to make as little noise as possible. And so, to perhaps have a few minutes of calm before the storm. The lights were soft and the house quiet, a nice soup smell hung in the air. Louis closed the door and took off his hat. He put it down gently. Then he slowly got rid of that surplus clothing necessary for that London life, leaning his head into the living room. Quiet. He heard a discreet noise on the carpet. Lowering his head, he could see his wife’s Birman cat, who watched him with his two meagre blue orbits. Louis had never loved that cat that constantly seemed to judge him just as his mistress.  
The small creature was gray-haired, except for two small white spots above his eyes, which formed a bushy eyebrow and gave him a continual expression of disdain. His little pure white paws, which are a feature of this race, gave the impression that he was wearing gloves and added a touch of elegance to his silhouette, already substantial.

Joining the sitting room, Louis could not resist it and frightened the poor beast by tapping his foot to the ground. The creature ran off immediately. He entered the warmly decorated lounge, a hand over his mouth to hide a childish smile. The colour of this room was red, a so-called warm colour, which brings togetherness and quiet. Anyway, that's what Eleanor persisted in affirming. And it is quite true that the room brings relaxation. The whole room had been thoroughly researched, studied and refined. Louis did not understand so much effort, he would never understand.  
One thing, however, stood out like a sore thumb in this picturesque setting. And it was not a literal thing, no of course, Eleanor would never have accepted that, but a person. Sat there on the armchair in gray lacquered wood with colourful ornaments, was an equally colourful character.

And if Louis did not know him, he might have thought that this man with the bronzed skin and brown eyes came straight out of an old tale book. His clothes contrasted sharply with the style of the room, or even their own clothes. It is obvious that besides Eleanor’s silk and satin dresses, from Italy or France, everyone was out of place.

The man, a very large size, stood against the fireplace. His black boots were all muddy, his wide cotton trousers were torn at the ends. His blouse which was certainly white at one time in the past was now stained and wet. Finally, he had a long brown coat and a black hat, which was surprisingly in good condition. When the man with the thick beard and long hair saw Louis, he raised an unimpressed eyebrow which made Louis uncomfortable. The latter had a moment where he felt very small and he tried to remember the differences of choice between their lives and felt a little better. He puffed out his chest and lifted his shoulders, he could do it.

He first approached his wife in order to greet her as a husband should be able to do so with his wife, but the latter rejected him, annoyed. He strongly prevented himself from rolling his eyes. He walked nervously to the man to shake his hand. He had a strong grip, much stronger than Louis’, who wanted to wince as his hand was crushed.

"Benjamin." He blew gracefully, his education forcing politeness in all circumstances. The other, while still shaking his hand, smacked him a friendly hand, he guessed, on the back. The force of it almost took his breath away. He still had a smile, his iron teeth shining under the candelabra candle light.  
"Louis, old pal! It's been a while." He had a strong, bold laugh that Louis had never liked. He forced himself all the same, and worked a polite smile on his face. He admitted the same and turned to the alcohols to serve himself a drink. He was not used to drinking, but he suspected that tonight he would most likely need it. He took a crystal glass and poured himself a dram of Scottish Scotch whisky. But before he could raise his glass to his mouth to appreciate the bitter taste of alcohol on his tongue, the container was snatched away from his hand.  
With one sip, Eleanor’s brother had just stolen his glass. He wiped his mouth with his dirty sleeve and put the glass down loudly."Not too bad." The man scratched his stomach and sat on the couch, which made the poor Eleanor cringe.

Eventually bored, Louis decided it was time to open his mouth and ask Benjamin what he was doing here. Indeed, the man was a sailor in the Royal Navy, although his behaviour and appearance indicated otherwise. It was not a custom of his to come visit the capital and even less, his sister. The last and only time, Louis had met him was at the wedding. And even then, the man was sticking out. Louis recalls very well how the gloomy and drunk man, scared his 16 years-old self a little. But now, seven years later, Louis was a respected and brave man, he was not afraid of his brother-in-law. At least that's what he wanted everyone to believe.

"Benjamin, in what honour do we owe you your enjoyable visit?" Louis' tone was perhaps a little annoyed now, which surprised the heckled who raised a bushy eyebrow. The man, coughing heavily, pulled a crumpled paper and laid it casually on the coffee table in paumelé mahogany. The doctor was ready to catch the document but his wife rushed to take it. She took out little round wooden glasses she brought before her eyes to read the fine writing of the paper.

"You are going to India?" Eleanor wore a real expression of amazement and joy on her face, as if it really was her who were starting the adventure.

"That's right. Royal request, we leave in a few months to seek spices and all kinds of exotic objects that _bourgeois_ love." Louis wondered if the man realized that with a scornful tone, he'd laugh at his little sister. For if Benjamin had not noticed, he stood in a residential house and Eleanor was everything that could be described as _bourgeois_. Louis said nothing and merely grumbled inwardly.

"So? What does this story have to do with us?" Eleanor quickly turned her head, so hard that her husband wondered how she could be so fast with the huge wig she wore on her head. Despite the numbers she had bought him, and the hours begging him to wear one, he still stubbornly refused to put one of these things. He had great difficulty with stockings and polished shoes. The wig was too much of an eccentricity.

"Several months on the same boat, to be sure to keep the sailors in great shape, we need a doctor. So I'm just offering you a deal." All the eyes were now on him, and Louis wanted only one thing, to disappear into the ground. How his evening took such a turn? He did not move an eyelash over a dozen seconds, because Louis thought of himself to be an intelligent man, and thought he understood very well what he was offered. Before he could even get a word out, he was already shaking his head.

"Louis, try to understand me, if I had another solution, I wouldn't ask you. But the former doctor died just a few weeks ago and we need a replacement soon." If Benjamin thought for one second he had reassured or convinced Louis, he was mistaken. It was simple, the man did not have to think about it more than that, he stubbornly refused to go. For although he complains more times than he can count, about his little dull and monotonous life, now that an adventure opportunity was open, he gave up willingly his place. To be fair Louis, the adventure that will please him, you can find it in the books he reads in the evening. He never thought that one day, he could actually become a hero.  
The doctor, who was not ready for that kind of intrigues, prepared himself to politely but firmly refused the proposition when his wife, like a fury, pushed herself out of her seat in a cloud of fabric and lace to catch his arm. Rather firmly, we will add.

"Benjamin, will you excuse us for a minute?" The brother of the lady immediately nodded, an accomplice smile on his lips. Louis did not like it. With an impressive grip for such a small woman, she drew him in the neighbouring room, which was a small reception room in which Louis was banned to set foot unless they were receiving guests. It was probably the most luxurious room in this house, all could see the many hours of reflection that had been put in each tables, napkins, candlesticks and other carpets. The woman corseted up to the top closed the small doors in greyish wood before turning toward him, a furious tone.

"Do not tell me you are going to deny an opportunity so advantageous?" There was a note of annoyance and misunderstanding in her haughty voice. She spoke of this trip like the one begun by Odysseus, but Louis strongly doubted he would see more than large bodies of water and maybe some fish? The little man did not really see what he would miss that is so huge by rejecting this proposition. He expressed his feelings to his wife who threatened to slit his throat on the spot. Fortunately for him, she did nothing. This woman can be really scary when she wants to. She clenched her fists and blew overly strong at her husband's failure to seize opportunities.

"Louis, it's the Royal Navy. Don't you see how much this title could bring us if they ever decided to keep you. Imagine if you get to climb the ladder where it could take us." Although he understood a little better the ideas of Eleanor, he still didn't see the benefit for him. Living at the court has never been a goal of Louis's life. He was perfectly happy in his little middle-class district of London. Yet he knew it was wiser not to say this, because it might put his wife in a sour mood and he still clung to life. He therefore found other excuses not to take the plunge and leave the land. He argued first that he had a job here and patients who relied on him, and to put even more luck on his side, he added, the issue of the family, his parents and sisters he was not so close with and didn't appreciate much.

Eleanor who was no fool, didn't believe for one moment any excuses. Placing both hands on her thin compressed waist, Louis knew he was in trouble. Advancing slowly towards him, a dangerous pace in her footsteps, she put an end to this conversation in a measured voice.

"Listen to me, my dear husband, I had never anything to say in this marriage that does not make me happy. But it is certain that if _I_ can improve my life if only a little, I will. And it is not you, my beloved husband, who is unable to give me a child and made me the laughing stock of the ladies, who will slow me down. Did I make myself clear?" Louis surprised and a little frightened by this terribly psychotic side of his wife, nodded. She had a smirk and straightened up in a less imposing position. She approached Louis and adjusted his clothing.

"Now you will accept this proposition and do your best because if this is not the case, I can swear on the grave of my missed mother, I will make you life a living hell." With those last words, she moved away from her husband, pale and quavering, and walked back to the living room where her brother was still. And Louis knew now, he had never had a choice and whether he likes it or not, he would find himself on that boat.

The trunks were fastened. Louis' concern had been arranged and his family had been informed of his departure. Everything was in order to leave with a peaceful mind for this journey. But Louis was neither serene nor ready to go. Despite the two weeks between the discussion and the departure, the young man had never managed to completely put in his mind that it was real. And he still did not want to leave the house that he feared a few weeks earlier.  
Dear Theodore came for the trunk and lifted it with difficulty, he had no more the strength of his youth. Louis then rushed to help him drag the heavy luggage outside. Where he was sure, his wife had created a real event.

Outside, near the coach stood his wife, who had donned for the occasion, a brand-new dress. A garment with an even thinner waist and wider hips than usual. It was a dress _à la_ _Française_ , a sack-back gown. It had three rows of hoops in a sack connected by an hessian that stretched up to her hips. The neckline was adorned with a thin lace frill and small blue ribbons down to her navel. The skirt was adorned to the bottom and made folds around her. The tissue was finely decorated with Asian flower of all colours on a blue background as a summer sky.  
She also wore one of her overembellished wigs, filled with too many feathers and flowers. She had a white complexion and rosy cheeks.

She was making a speech to the neighbourhood ladies who had come to learn about all the fuss. Eleanor of course, took advantage of this opportunity to tell all those who wished to hear it, the fantasy adventure that had been offered to her husband. The women giggled and marvelled on one thing they could not even imagine.

With difficulty, Theodore and Louis managed to attach the trunk to the car without bruising their backs. From his very old watch, Louis guessed unfortunately it was already time to say goodbye. While mending his coat, Louis sent word to his wife that it was time. The latter then, in a soft and elegant gesture, came to him, her phrase tweaked to believe she was in terrible pain to let her husband go, as in fact she was who was sacking him. She placed a tender hand against his cold cheek and looked at him almost amiably.

"I count on you, I warned you." Then she walked up to him and allowed him a volatile kiss against his cheek. She pulled out a kerchief out of her neck that she wore to her face, perfectly playing the role of the aggrieved wife. Louis sighed deeply and climbed into the simplistic hitch. For the sake of image, he gave a brief wave to his wife before the door was closed and he draw a little curtain, finally allowing some calm. He leaned back on the bench and waited patiently for the start. His ear was guided by trotting horses.

It took very little time to join the Thames. Although the hour was still early, here there was a lot of noise. Setting foot on the ground, Louis was stung by all the sounds, smells and all the new faces around him. The air was fresh and salty, wind roamed through Louis' hair and made them move in all directions. There was also a lot of people, sailors, merchants, fish sellers, petty thieves, women doing their shopping. Louis was not used to all of this life, noise, movements.

He was shoved by a man with a hurried appearance, and was shocked to see that this person did not turn to apologize. Theodore gave him a smile of understanding, he pointed his finger at one of the ship and explained that he would join him with his items.  
Louis walked slowly around the ship, rather impressed by its size. The drawings he had seen of ships, were nothing like the real object.  
It was a very impressive ship, a hundred and thirty feet to the naked eye, dozens of sails and the flag of England floating proudly. A shell of oak, slightly tarnished by the many trips. With a quick glance, anyone could guess that it was not a warship but a merchandise ship, there were only four artillery cannons on each side. The place was reserved for the crew and goods, of course.

Louis was astonished for once for wanting to perceive the hard face and ill-proportioned body of his brother-in-law. Unfortunately, luck was not with him, because he could not see him anywhere on the harbor or near the boat. He walked quietly from then to the man who was close to the board to get on the boat. He was wearing a blue uniform coat, white high-breeches and stockings. He also had a white wig on the head, a small ponytail attached with a black ribbon. He had a very clean and elegant look, the opposite of his brother-in-law. The man asked in a particularly aristocratic voice Louis' name.

After having given him, the man nodded slightly and invited the young doctor to get on the boat. But before that, he yelled the name of a young man, Billy, who hastened to meet them. It was a small young lad, about ten years old at the most, had a dirty face and was missing teeth. He took off with an awkward hand the cap he wore on his brown hair. He made a half-curtsy before the two men, which surprised Louis because he lacked the social place for it.

"Billy, take the physician Mr. Tomlinson to his cabin." The brat nodded and executed the order on the spot. He helped Theodore carry the heavy trunk into a small cabin to the aftercastle. It was oddly much more comfortable than Louis had imagined. Certainly it was not his richly decorated room with Eleanor or the warmth of the family home, but it would do the trick. There was a small wooden desk with an oil lamp still unused and a small desk chair with four legs of carved wood. The only other furniture in the room was the Turkish bed which was against the wall and had no canopy. After his trunk was arranged in an empty corner, his books out and decorating the office and the two men having left, Louis took a few moments to breathe deeply and prepare himself. The journey actually began now.

The idea that Louis had of adventure fell quickly for multiple reasons. First, the first few days on the boat were a real ordeal for the young man. The latter never having set a foot on a boat in his life, he had to deal with seasickness during the first four days of the trip. The poor man spent his time on the deck to vomit overboard. He had, moreover, in his evil state to endure the sneers and jokes of the other sailors. But after a period of adaptation, the stomach of our poor friend got used to this perpetual stir.

The second thing that made him lose all his illusions is that despite what you may think, not a lot of activities happen on a ship. Certainly the work is hard for all and the boat must be sailed permanently, but soon a routine sets in and nothing very exciting happens. In addition, Louis simple physician, does not have much work to do. He spends most of his time checking the sailors' yellowed orbits, reassure them when they have a pain too intense here and there and usually, he prescribed them with a diet a little less salty. Louis' life of adventurer stops there. As he had predicted, his days slowly evolved over the waves. He spent long hours reading and rereading the many novels he carried with him, in which happen a real plot, or the Bible.

His poor Christian soul is a bit more outraged with each day that ends. Louis would have guessed, seeing the poor state of mind of his brother-in-law, but to be constantly surrounded by men who swear on the name of the Lord, who repel the human cause and whose only thought is to commit sins by thousands, it's a different story. And it is for this very reason that he refuses to mingle with these people. He'd much rather be alone and pray in the relaxing quiet of his cabin.

The first month was exceeded, Louis wondered every new sunrise, when will his ordeal end? The doctor, in an unfounded fear, imagined hundreds of scenes where death would be the result. He had never imagined that he would die of boredom.  
He was now on the main deck, sitting on the steps leading to the forecastle, his old edition of _Robinson Crusoe_ long since abandoned. He looked to the right, or starboard as he had learned from longer than he had to be aware. The sun slowly began to set and in the horizon, still nothing. No land, no hope, nothing.

Sighing for long, feeling suddenly very lethargic, he gently grabbed his book and walked to his humble cabin. On the deck was Billy, who he had befriended, he was busy scouring with energy the constantly wet wood. Louis gave him a small nod, by what the titch smiled with the teeth he had left. Upon entering the cabin, Louis put the book on the desk before jumping on the bed. He was not tired, but the boredom that took him was so sharp that he saw no other ways to pass the time. But with the minutes marching, Louis' mind engaged in other fantasies, which he was not used to having. He was even preventing himself from having. Impure fantasies that were sent to him as a test.

This time, Louis was not careful enough and let himself go. Impure thoughts about other men came to his mind and his body was excited for some reasons he never understood. He thought of the men he had encountered in only friendly exchanges and yet his thoughts were far from friendly. It was stormy breaths, hands that caressed an entire naked body, tense groans, tips which penetrated forbidden areas. Eyes closed, alone and abandoned, he did something unforgivable, he touched himself. He ran a trembling hand against the taut fabric of his high-breeches and let out a broken groan.

This noise brought him back to the reality of the present moment. Immediately, as if burnt, he pulled his hand out of his pants and stood up from the bed. Cursing himself again and again for what he had dared to do. He was looking, upset, among all his books until he found the one thing that might help, and be forgiven. Kneeling before his bed, he folded his hands and began to pray, begging to be forgiven for his gesture and his impure thoughts. He did not stop even when his throat was dry, even when the tears of guilt prevented him from seeing anything, even when his knees were in pain, exhausted on the hard ground, begging him to get up. The only thing that stopped him in his infinite tirade, coming a bit too late, was sleep.

When he regained consciousness, he was still on the ground, legs numb and knees alarmed. His face was crushed against a Bible verse. The cabin was in complete darkness except for a beam of light forcing its luster under the door. He got up painfully, gently laid his Bible on the desk. He artfully traced it with his fingers when he heard shouts from outside. It was not the same cries as usual, there was no joy, anger or even alcohol hidden behind these cries. There was only terror.  
Although frightened, Louis knew it was his duty as a man to go out and face what was there. If he remained hidden, he would be a traitor, a nobody. He decided to face his destiny and get out, but a violent detonation stopped him. Someone had used a firearm, potentially killing another man. He felt petrified, his breathing quickened, his heart tapping fiercely against his chest.

Him, who only two hours prior, was bored to death, now regretted enormously boredom. Louis had never felt this before. This fear of dying. His feet forced him to step back the more massacre noises, terror were heard. He was no fool, so he knew exactly what was going on outside. He had often heard these stories we told aloud in pubs, friends or children invented them to scare or instead marvel. He knew all these stories could not be only guff, and that they had some truth. But these stories are not supposed to turn out to be true. Louis refuses to believe that pirates are attacking the ship.

Hair raised on his head when he heard hurried and harsh voices in the hallway, just outside his cabin. He silently prayed for protection, so that the door would not open and make him discover the dark and bloody face of a man who would not hesitate one second to cut his throat. Unfortunately his prior fault had to bring this ordeal over him because the door opened. The man in front of him had not a face so dark or bloody, but Louis still feared for his life. He then grabs, trying to be discreet, the paperknife who was among his notes and pens.

The man eyed him from head to toe, a short mocking laugh escaping his lips. He put his pistol in his belt and approached Louis. The latter felt panic rise and when the man was a few feet from him, he hold the paperknife to give a blow to the face of his assailant. However, he had not expected the man to be so fast and found himself with the arm twisted behind his back, while the man swung the ridiculous weapon under the bed.

"Be careful with sharp objects kid." He sneered while pulling Louis out. The latter tried to pull himself out of the man's grip but it was useless because the man was bigger and stronger than him, he felt helpless. Outside it was dark, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon. A light but ice cold rain was falling on the deck. Raising his face, Louis realized that the nightmare was real because the entire crew, including his brother-in-law and captain, had been captured. Poor wretches, who sought to defend the ship, lay on the ground, lifeless. Louis looked away immediately. They pushed him to kneel on the ground with the others.

He did not even lift his face, refusing to look at the besiegers. He just closed his eyes and prayed silently. If this was his last hour, he wanted to go with the Lord's blessing. The ship was quiet, only the wind gusts interrupted the silence.

"Sailors, our captain is a man full of goodness!" A fast, clear voice rang, startling Louis in his prayer. He was still struggling to hide his surprise. The captain of a pirate ship, a man full of goodness? Louis could not believe the nonsense he heard. The man resumed.  
"All those who wish to leave the castrating Royal Navy to join our crew will be welcomed without any fear of reprisals" The silence was even more deaf, no one moved or breathed. All were doing a difficult decision. Finally, a man rose unsafe. All watching him. It was a little sailor without responsibility. His superiors sent him a glare. It was an act of treason, to collaborate with the enemy of their country.

To the surprise but also the pride of Louis, only a few men stood up to join the opposite camp. The man who had spoken earlier, a big guy with a bushy beard and hair pulled back and a tattoo on his arm, encouraged them to join their group without fear. At least they were not liars, Louis thought, well for now.

"Nobody else ?" The man waited a few seconds, the wind-blowing his hair. When no one spoke, each true to his camp, he sighed and made a quick hand gesture. Three men of the crew, until now remained motionless, moved toward the men still squatting on the ground. And Louis knew very well that this was the end. He closed his eyes and prayed harder, hoping the Lord would hear his forgiveness and allow him to reach Heaven. Yet, although he was taught all his life that death is not a bad thing, in that moment, he could not help but doubt. The truth was, he did not want to die, he wants to live for many more adventures as simple as they may be.

Finally, the young man opened his eyes and was terribly shocked by what he found. There was blood everywhere, men who were still living a minute ago, now lying in their own blood. He was one of the last in the line, one of the last to be executed. He felt a retching and he leaned forward, trying to breathe. But amidst all this blood, he did not succeed, he felt tears stinging his eyes. A merciless hand grabbed him by the hair and put him back on his knees which creaked in pain. A cry of weakness but also of terror escaped him. He grabbed with both hands the thick wrist attached to this ruthless hand, trying to break free. He stopped all movement when he felt the cold and long blade of the knife to his throat and at that moment, he finally realized that this was the end, he was dying. He released his hold and then let himself sink into the ground, he waited with torment the unforgivable sliding of the blade against his neck. He just hoped the pain would be alleviated quickly.

"Wait." A low, slow voice rose from somewhere behind the man with the beard. Louis looked at him but he did not see him. It was too dark and the man was hiding under the shadow of his big hat. The pirate behind him stopped and waited an order. The blade still leaning against his throat, Louis wondered what was taking so long, why would they not end his ordeal immediately?

"Not that one, I'll keep him." Louis heard the man behind him let go of an amused snort, before removing the blade from his throat and releasing Louis. He fell heavily on his hands, breathing hard. He had not quite realized what had happened, he was jolted, unable to do anything. He heard a hurried breath close to him and turned his head to his left to see the frightened face of Billy. The latter made eye contact with Louis and managed to smile despite the unfavorable situation. Then, in the next second, the man, the same who had come to seek Louis, cut his throat with a jerk. No hesitation, a net track. Billy looked like a fish out of the water. The blood was spreading in squirt, Louis felt that he received some on himself and he could do nothing but watch the scene helplessly and totally indisposed. The poor young man, who had never done anything else but follow orders, fell to the ground, holding his throat.

Louis' vision blurred, tears ran by dozens down his cheeks. He felt nausea take his stomach. He was surrounded by corpses, blood covered him and entered his every pore. He could not breathe, vision left him without even realizing it, he fell to the ground too, his head hitting the floor. Everything went black around him.


	2. P A R T  II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is married to a woman he does not love, he hates cats and may have a thirst for adventure, Harry is surely the captain of this ship and has problems with plates, Liam must handle everything, Zayn is happy with his place and Niall just wanted to get away from the mainland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part contains a quick scene of non-con (not even) but if it triggers you or anything, just skip the end, it's not much and I'll tell you what happened in the end note. Good reading :)

Death seemed much softer in the writings. Louis thought that once on the other side, he would no longer feel pain, fear or cold. He had thought about it much more than necessary, probably because he lived a tasteless life, which basically, perhaps not deserving to be lived. At least, there was still the softness, he had always wanted to feel this slight softness beneath his fingers. With his tired palm, he came gently fondling the fabric beneath him, it was delicate like milk, it slipped under him. He blinked his eyelashes slowly, painfully. He was not certain to be ready to see the blinding light of heaven, not sure he deserved to hear thousands of angels sing life in his ear. He was not sure he wanted to die.

When he encouraged himself enough to finally open his eyes, he was a tad disappointed. No meek cloud, no blinding light, no melodious angel. No, for the longest time, he saw and heard absolutely nothing. The place where he was, if it really was a physical place was dark and eerily quiet. Louis frowned and after a while, his views became more and more refined, and he could see shapes, shadows, objects. He did not understand.  
This place looked strangely like the cabin he had been forced to leave. It just seemed a bit larger and more inhabited.

Then bringing all components to each other, Louis finally understood and got up hastily. He immediately regretted his choice when he felt his eyesight troubled and the room turning. He took his head in his small hands and felt something wrapped around his head closely. He gently felt his bruised skull and came to the conclusion that someone wrapped his head with a piece of cloth as a bandage. As a doctor, he did not approve, but it was honestly the least of his worries. Carefully, so as not to cause another stunning, he stood up and let out a small cry of horror when he realized he was not dressed in high-breeches or cotton stockings. The poor young man was only wearing his breeches that were tied loosely around his waist and ankles. He felt naked. He even hesitated for a second to wrap himself with the sheets he had found so soft against his skin. But he did not do it because he did not know who these sheets, or even this bed or cabin belong to. He knew nothing.

Moving warily, groping in the darkness of the room, to the tiny porthole located in a corner of the cabin. In order to look outside, he had to stand on his tiptoes, the porthole surprisingly high. What he saw depressed him somewhat. Before his eyes, and as far as he could see, there were only long stretches of water. So he had not succumbed, and was still on the boring sea. He let out a long sigh and admire, nevertheless, the beauty of the sky with the orange and red colours. Even in times of crisis, he could appreciate the beauty of the world, whatever the form.

He was however interrupted in his contemplation as he heard a noise outside and it was for him like a slap that was directly imposed to him. Suddenly, it was no longer only him and the sky, but he and the people outside, who clearly wanted to harm him. And as the picture of Billy's blood leaping on his face was still fresh and engraved in his mind, he refused this time to do nothing. He had every intention of defending the poor life he led. Consequently, despite the darkness of the room, he approached what he guessed to be an desk and searched blindly for something, anything that could be used as a weapon.  
He had no plan, no knowledge in the field of fight and no way to know how many pirates oh stronger and more terrifying than him were outside, yet he did not care one second. All he wanted was to stay alive. A strong and thoughtless feeling, that he had not felt in a long time. He hesitated even to say ever.

After a few minutes to consider with his fingers a string of objects, he thought to recognize some such as paper, a pen and a stemmed glass, his fingers came in contact with something cold and smooth. He took it carefully between his fingers and put it in evidence in the few weak rays that still managed to cross the thick window. The light was reflected brightly on the surface and Louis smiled stupidly as he had in his hands a weapon, great and rusty scissors that were not as well off as they were once. Nevertheless he held them against his heart as if he had just torn the legendary Excalibur sword from the rock.

It was then, as if the act of touching an object that does not belong to him had woken up the guardian beast, Louis heard something approaching. Like before, he felt the same choking fear washing over him and he had only one wish, to close his eyes and disappear. But he knew this time that nothing and no one would help him, he could rely only on his own urge to survive. He gripped strongly the ridicule scissors in his hand and mentally prepare to attack.  
The footsteps were more resonant, Louis had almost the impression they rumbled in his brain. And then no more noises, then a click and the creaking of hinges.

Even before Louis could see the face of this person, he had already charged on them, with the firm intention to break free. His eyes were closed, however, and therefore he had no chance to get there. Fear had, once again, prevailed.

Eyes remained closed, he felt a titanic hand grab his wrist and bend it. He felt the piercing pain but fear and adrenaline drove him to fight at all costs. The poor man felt that he had a strength disadvantage to this man, and his small size could not help either. Nevertheless, he continued, throwing all his strength in his arms and trying again and again to push his opponent. The two men grunted loudly and Louis feared it attracts other people.

He decided it would probably make more sense to open his eyes, which he did but it was apparently a mistake. The last thing he saw was bright eyes and a smile, and then he was pushed backwards and fell back on the crisp sheets. He heard again the hinges screech and saw that the door had been closed, trapped. Louis was ready to get up, to fight but no one gave him that chance when a rather heavy weight, fell on him, forcing him against the mattress. He fidgeted in every way, and tried to pull himself out of there and hit as hard as he could the particularly large back of his attacker. Soon, the latter grabbed with one hand both of Louis and the latter would lie if he said he was not a little ashamed.

He continued to move, desperate to get rid of this grip. The man above him, now controlling the situation, straightened over Louis. The latter immediately stopped moving. For this man... No, this boy must not be much older than him. He had green eyes, fine and elegant features, lush hair and a strange smile. Had he crossed the street, Louis would never have guessed that this boy was a pirate. It was surreal. He, who feared since earlier, the rage of a mature man, face full of scars and a wooden leg, found himself before an altar boy. If he was not so terrified, Louis could laugh at the situation.

The man ran a hand, actually huge in his hair and blew a long cloud of air, then laughed. When he smiled, he seemed even younger Louis thought briefly.

"I thought you would be much weaker, given your body." Louis did not understand what that implied, and frankly did not want to know, he just wanted the man to free him from this uncomfortable and strange position for two strange men. He realized quickly that the pirate, was not embarrassed since he caressed one of his big and warm hands against Louis' thigh, lifting his breeches up to discover the heights of his leg. He felt himself stiffen instantly. Nobody, not even his own wife, had never touched him there, and certainly not another man. At first he said nothing, just feeling the hand of this unknown and dangerous man as he gently ran it up higher on his skin. He looked at an invisible point behind the man' head. And he knew he had to stop everything,  that was wrong and terrible, but his body was not listening, it was simply following the slow and perilous lead of that hand.

Fortunately for him, God gave him a second chance when he felt that the man gently pressed between his fingers his curves just below his bum. Like a bolt of lightning, he woke up and was revived by a devastating passion. He wanted the boy to stop touching him, to go far away from him. He made it known, growling and striking this crazy man until he withdrew completely. Louis was now alone on the bed, putting up his clothes, feeling ashamed, cheeks flushed. The man was now three feet away from the bed and looked peaceful. He was not looking at him.

Louis took the opportunity to observe him. Now that the pirate was no longer on him, he noticed that he was tall, that was very disturbing, rather thin with broad shoulders, long legs. But except his physique, everything about him proved that he was a pirate. He was wearing loose trousers that had been damaged and stitched without any finesse with other coloured fabric, a tunic of an old-fashioned red, a black leather belt, high black boots that were fairly well maintained, a long, heavy coat and a hat with folded edges. He also carried a sword in his belt and what appeared to be a firearm. Louis gently swallowed his saliva.

He tried to recover some of the confidence who had inhabited him earlier, wanting to make an impression, to seems larger and more impressive than he really was. But when he opened his mouth, it was a shaky and frightened voice that came out.  
"What am I doing here? Where am I?" The man finally bothered to turn his face towards him, he watched him a few seconds in silence, his body rocking with the rhythm of the waves. Louis felt uncomfortable under his fiery eyes, he felt extremely vulnerable and did not like that at all. Finally the man turned his face and walked to a wooden seat with four legs with a pillow that seemed faded and full of holes, he settled down and took in his big fingers a quill pen and began to write.

"You're on the pirate ship "Hera" and you should thank me, I saved your life." He did not look away once, the pen scratching against the dry paper, eyes concentrated and frowning. Louis remained somewhat silent faced with this answer because really, who this man thought he was to talk to him like that. He then rose from the bed and allowed himself to forget that he was simply dressed in his breeches and his white tunic. He approached the man and for a second, forgot his fear.  
"First of all, I do not allow you such familiarities with me sir, and then I never asked to be saved." The brown-haired man stopped writing and for a second, Louis feared to have irritated him and would now suffer the consequences. But when he threw back a look at his face, he realized that the man had an amused and surprised smile on his lips. He turned his entire body toward Louis and put his elbows on the armrests, fingers crossed. Although Louis was surprised by this reaction, he managed not to show it.

"If you didn't care so much, Your Highness, to die, why did you weep like some child?" The question was so sudden and embarrassing that Louis let go of the obvious mockery. He did not know what to say because he could not deny he had cried awfully before the image of death and it is a total shame for him. He tried several times to answer, but no response was up to par.  
"Besides, you're too good-looking to die, it would have been a phenomenal mistake for me to leave such a beautiful neck being cut." More minutes passed, Louis felt more uncomfortable in the company of this man. He felt disgust coming up for this individual, who without embarrassment or modesty had show to the entire world and God, that he was a sodomite. But now Louis feared for his own faith, for its purity. He walked away from the man as if he had the plague.

"Will you make me do things that are against God?" Louis felt insulted and neglected when the man laughed, mouth wide open, eyes half closed, hands on the belly. Increasingly uncomfortable, he wrapped his arms around him and hung his head. He did not understand what was so funny in his question, he was, totally freaked out by the idea of touching him. Gradually, the man's laughter subsided and he sat up in his seat.

"No, I- I have no intention of raping you if that's what you're asking." Louis felt a weight being removed from his chest and he could breathe easily again. He was about to open his mouth again, to know then what he was doing here, but the pirate interrupted.  
"Rape is not my thing, I much prefer when both parts agree." He sent a look full of subtext to Louis, the voice very low and masculine, the young doctor felt a special warmth in the lower part of his belly and red rose to his cheeks. He tightened a little his arms around him and gave an exaggerated grimace. The amused smile of the man had returned.

"I advise you not to hold your breath in this case." Proud of his response, Louis sent him a look of challenge. The man let out a sarcastic laugh before recovering, he was taller than Louis by a few good inches and he felt, once again, greatly disadvantaged by his small size. The man easily moved into the darkness, and Louis could not see what he was doing. While the attacker's back was turned, Louis hesitated a second to escape through the wooden door he knew was not locked. He however quickly abandoned that idea because with a little common sense, everybody could understand he would not go very far before getting recapture or worse, killed.  
He waited until the man turned around and saw that he was holding in his hands, clothes. He handed them over without a word and Louis watched them for a moment before raising his face to the pirate.

"It is out of question that I wear that. Where are my clothes?" Louis said, tone eloquent and demanding. The man sighed and forced the worn clothes in the smaller man's arms. Louis let out a small breath, shocked, nobody had ever mistreated him.  
"Wear them. You won't have others. If you prefer to walk around naked, it's not my problem. But I'm sure my men will be happy to take your arse. Get dress, I'll wait outside." And the man went out without a word. Louis remained a moment motionless, completely shocked by the way the man  talked to him but also what had been said itself. First, obstinate, he refused to wear these rags. Then he realized that the pirate was not joking and forced himself to put his pride aside to put on these rags. So he pulled on the large canvas short trousers which was unpleasant and itchy, a dull blue with darker stripes. He had to tighten its belt to the maximum at his waist so it does not tumble down his legs. There was also a coat he slipped on quickly, he was immediately disgusted by the smell of it, which smelled strongly of rain. However, it was hot and would protect him from the cold on the sometimes icy sea. He quickly put on his shoes, the sensation strange but not unpleasant without his stockings.

He opened the door which made a monstrous noise and joined the pirate, who, holding his word, was just waiting behind the door. When he saw Louis dressed in this outfit, he smiled and the captive could not help but roll his eyes. The pirate then headed towards the light and soon they found themselves in the open. The sun continued the difficult task of getting up, illuminating the sea with its rays. The air was cool but just enough to keep them warm. From where Louis was, he overlooked all the deck and saw men, pirates trying to be busy. He noticed immediately that this ship was much more impressive than the Navy one and this one already, had took his breath away. Everything was bigger, the hull, masts, sails. Too much information available to him and Louis didn't know where to look. From the poop deck, Louis' view was infinite and all he saw was waves. On the poop, was also the helm and Louis had this childish desire to touch it and even navigate. But he did nothing and simply followed the man who went down the perilous wooden stairs leading to the quarterdeck but also the deck.

Louis felt uncomfortable and out of place, the pirates stopped working to watch him pass. He wanted to hide but instead he kept his head high and continued walking behind the young man. They crossed the deck in calm, face whipped by the wind for the entire length of the deck to the forecastle. Looking over the imposing silhouette of the young man, he saw the man with the beard and tattoo that had raised his voice and asked the sailors to join them yesterday.  
It was tall as well, less than the man with the curls but still, as big, brown hair and clean shaven on the side with a tuft plated back on top. A thick, dark beard covered his cheeks and chin. He had his arms crossed over his bulging chest, exposing to all his black tattooed arms. He had a serious and concentrated facial expression. The man Louis followed stopped in front of him.

"Captain." He gave a brief nod, a silent greeting. Louis was still standing near them and had a bit of trouble believing what he had just heard. Captain? This boy with curls and a boyish face was the captain of a boat full of pirates? No, he could not believe it, it was surreal. Yet it had to be the case, for the captain also nodded and turned to Louis, who straighten up immediately.  
"Liam, I entrust you to this princess here, be careful she bites. Find him an occupation and a place to sleep. A safe place." Liam's face, went from fun to serious and comprehensive. He shook his head again and exchanged a long look with the captain. The latter turned and disappeared quickly. Louis was still humiliated by being called a princess, but obviously, no one would be there to defend his honour. Liam gave him a quick wave and vanished behind a door.

Louis borrowed the same path and immediately once the door closed, the atmosphere changed tremendously. It was dark, hot and there was a strong smell of cabbage. Louis sank a little deeper into this place and after a few steps in complete darkness in a narrow corridor, he entered on a slightly larger room and realized that it was the kitchen. The light was soft and very orange thanks to the tiny wood oven that was in a corner of the room. There was a single wooden table in the middle of the room that took the majority of the space. On it were endless things, cutlery in wood, iron glasses, pewter bowls, gravy boats still dirty. Iron skimmers with deformed holes were hung on the walls, there were of all sizes. There was another pile of wooden plates, lots of gigantic iron pots, huge carving knife rather terrifying. There were barrels that seemed extremely heavy which, Louis guessed, were filled with the precious water or salted meat.

And there was someone else in this room other than the bearded man. A young boy who was too old to be a child, but too young to be a man. He was not very large, even smaller than Louis, had dark skin, brown eyes that seemed orange in this light and long black hair that framed his face on each side and down cascading behind his ears and his neck. He was a young healthy man, rather thin still, but Louis was certain that with time his features would get sharper to give a strong and robust man with strong features.  
He was chopping cabbage leaves and putting them in a pot filled with water. Liam was close to him and whispering something that made the young man smile. Louis, feeling unwanted and not understanding what they were doing, made his presence known by strongly scraping his throat. Both men turned to him, the black-haired boy watched him from head to toe, an unimpressed expression on his face. Then, resting his brown eyes on his cabbages, cutting with a lot more energy, he said in a loud, nervous voice, something that Louis did not understand because it was not in English. Liam sighed deeply and motioned Louis to approach, what he ended up doing, not without reluctance.

"Zayn, here's... uh." He looked at Louis and he seemed almost sorry for not knowing his name. The man was surprised and gave his name calmly.  
"Here's Louis, he was on the boat yesterday, he is part of the crew now." Louis almost gritted his teeth hearing this, because no, it was out of the question that he would never be part of this crew of criminals. The boy, Zayn, did not look up and did not stop cutting the cabbage into small pieces while they were gradually reduced to powder. Liam sighed once again and again approached the boy, he put a hand on the small of his back and Louis had wide eyes. Barely one hour conscious on this boat and he already witnessed the worst sin, between men really is the limit!

"Jaan, be nice to him, he's new." For a second, Louis, upset, wanted to remind them that he was there and he had ears to hear. But he did nothing and just stepped away from them, watching instead the pots. The two men had a discussion that lasted a few minutes, that Louis could not follow because their tone was too low and that half of the conversation was in a language that Louis did not understand. Finally, Liam called him out and when Louis faced them again, Zayn seemed in a much better mood.

"Louis, if you want everything to go well for you on this ship, there are some small elements to be respected. Do not trouble anyone in their work, we all have much to do, in case of an attack, Zayn and you stay in the kitchen and don't get out until someone picks you up. We do not steal food, we don't go to the captain's cabin or the first lieutenant unless requested. No useless discussion with the captain, no shirker and above all, don't waste water." The longer the list grew, the more surprised Louis was, he was always in the belief that the pirates were fools without rules or laws that sharply disputed the place of captain. He was wrong.

"Your work Louis, is to help Zayn with the cooking, listen to him, don't burn anything and you sleep here at night, is that clear?" He constantly spoke at breakneck speed and Louis really thought he had misheard. Him working in the kitchen? It made him laugh a moment and then when he saw that no one responded, he panicked a little.  
"You're not kidding? I'm a doctor! Not a vulgar cook who cut vegetables!" He was going to protest more, defend his social position but the swarthy boy grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the table, placing a sharp knife between his fingers. When he raised his face to the dark corridor, Liam had already disappeared. He glared at the boy but  this expression quickly fell when he noticed the state of rage in which the little man was.

"A tip, if you want to survive on this ship, you better shut the fuck up and do what you're asked, got it?" Louis was not a hero, or a tough guy and so he nodded without more words. He noticed for the first time, that the boy had an accent and drew the conclusion that he was not English. He placed a heavy bag of potatoes on the table and asked Louis to start peeling.  
"Here is my kitchen so you respect my rules. First, you'll let your bitchy attitude at the door when you come here to feed two hundred hungry men. Second, never waste food, everything can be reusable, that it is full of insects or fungi." Louis grimaced, not only because imagining eating such thing pinched his stomach and then because he had just cut his finger slightly. He never cooks, he never needed to. Zayn sighed and handed him a piece of cloth that he wrapped around his finger. He seemed less angry now.

"In the morning here, the meal consists of hardtacks and a little wine. In the evening they can have a bit of salt pork, beef or cod with vegetables sometimes. It's not much, but we impose rationing every three months, we've got to hold on." Louis nodded again, focusing a lot to try to complete peeling his first potato. Already he was not very excited about this work or even the life that awaited him.

"You're lucky to be alive, you know that?" Zayn replied a few minutes later, when silence was too heavy. Louis shook his shoulders and when he felt the heavy gaze of Zayn on him, he looked him in the eyes, he realized that he did not understand.  
"I never asked to be rescued by anyone." He resumed peeling and no word was exchanged then.

At night, when not a sound could be heard on the ship other than the sound of waves hitting the hull, in his hammock hanging perilously in the kitchen, Louis began to think. He wondered if he was really lucky? For it is true that at the time, he had not wanted to die. But is this life that awaits, that of a prisoner on a pirate ship where sin and decay prevail, a chance? Louis strongly doubted that.

Louis would like someone to explain to him where to find adventure, something exciting. Because he spent a whole month on a Royal Navy ship and he was bored to death and now he is on a pirate ship, known for its adventures and folk tales, and now he is bored again. He wants to give the pirate ship that it has a little more fun, from time to time, but as Louis spends three quarters of his time in the kitchen as a slave to cook or clean dishes, he sees none of this.

Louis had not realized that waking up on this ship, meant that from now on he would spend his days and nights in a small room always smelling of stew and stale bread. He spent his days peeling, cutting, thinning, discarding and washing. The worst thing is that he never saw the colour of his efforts because he was not the one who served the pirates and could therefore not see the joy on their faces when they tasted the first spoonful. No it was Zayn who did it. The boy, despite his young age, seemed to get along with everyone on the ship.

While Louis was a different story. As soon as he took a break from his pots and knives to breathe some air, it was as if time stopped and all the boat put its work on hold to be able to observe him with a dim eye. Louis, as a doctor, forced himself to go outside at least an hour a day to be sure to keep in shape and not to suffocate. But if it were up to him he would never get out, so as not to face the killer eyes of these criminals. Louis had no idea what he could have done to them for them to hate him so much. He now tried to forget their presence and keep himself as far as physically possible on this ship.

Because Louis, despite the lack of interaction he had with the other men, was no fool and is perfectly aware of what was happening between these boards. Finally the men of the Navy and the pirates were not much different. They had the same shameful way to talk about women and what they would do if one of them was on the ship. Louis, fortunately, had never been like one of those men, he never would talk about a woman like that whether she was an aristocrat or  the daughter of a fishmonger. Having been raised mainly by women, he knew they deserved all the respect.  
But the thing that had offended him the most was that these men, lacking women, allowed themselves to satisfy their desire with men. Louis had never witnessed so much perversion in his life. They dared to do this under the eyes of everyone and worse, nobody raised an eyebrow, as if it was normal.

Louis, of course, categorically refuse to interact with any of these men. The only ones to whom he spoke were Zayn and Liam. He had discovered over the weeks, that Zayn was a young boy full of intelligence. He was four during his first sea voyage. He accompanied his father and cousins who haggled fabric with the surrounding countries. His family was not rich but it was loving and the boy with deep eyes had confessed that he was missing them. When he was fifteen, he embarked on another journey on his uncle's boat, which took a different turn as the boat was stopped and looted by the captain's pirates and Zayn was captured, the only survivor.  
Louis did not understand how Zayn could work for people who have killed his family members. The boy never gave him a clear answer, a single sentence of his own Bible about forgiveness. Louis found him respectable because he was not sure he could ever forgive the captain for abducting his own life.

Speaking of the latter, Louis was very confused as to this man. Because he saves him from death and embarks him on his ship, let him rest in his apartments to finally abandon him to his fate for endless weeks. Louis wondered why the captain had even bothered to save him if it was not for a minimum attention. Yet when he thought this, he pinched himself immediately because what were those strange thoughts? He did not want the attention of the man, mad man and sinner. This is what his faith told him yet, other parts of his body were expressing themselves more than ever too.  
Louis had the intimate doubt that the more time he spent on this boat, the more like these pirates he became because his body demanded him things he could not satisfy. More than ever, he had forbidden dreams, full of infamy and he could pray for hours, asking forgiveness and strength to fight his impulses, his dreams did not stop.

Posted on the deck, Louis watched the maritime life slowly subsiding. The sun was beginning to fall towards the sea, the pirates were taking seats on the deck and shared a drink and stories, the captain stood tall on the quarterdeck, his face in the shadow, manoeuvring his ship. Louis was ashamed to admit that he had spent most of his time observing him from the corner of his eye and the man had not appeared to look away once. He did not know yet if he was disappointed or not by this news. Knowing that dinner time was approaching and it was necessary to initiate the stew, Louis limply went back to his small room where probably awaited him, an excited Zayn. He appreciated the mild temperature and the wind was gently wavering the sails. He disappeared behind the heavy door, blocking the wind and lightness. What greeted him was a heavier indoor temperature than usual.

And strangely, he was not greeted as usual by the untied voice of Zayn and the clinking of pots. No, instead, there was like a shaky breath and a repetitive grinding. Louis suddenly worried for Zayn, perhaps he felt feverish. He walked slowly and was immediately arrested in his steps, what he saw shocked him instantly. He is used to seeing Liam in this room, more than anyone, but he would never have expected to see so much of him.

Hair tousled and in front of his face, he had a sweaty forehead and a red torso, at least that's what was perceivable with his coat ajar. His eyes, usually so soft and serious, were now black and filled with an indescribable desire. He let go of, from time to time, deep growls like a threatening animal. His canvas short trousers fell at his feet and formed like a nimbus. Louis was terribly shocked, he had never seen a penis other than his own in his life. He knew that the only thing to do was to look away from this terrible sight, but he could not keep his eyes away from the long, red, ready to explode member, which plunged again and again into the small trembling and all sweaty body of Zayn.

The latter was lying full length on the wooden table, he was completely naked, his clothes having been pushed back in a corner of the room. His thin and brown legs were around Liam's waist, while he held the small man firmly by the waist, they were attached to each other. His left hand was firmly gripped on the edge of the table, while his right hand was in his dark hair. If it were not for the tense state of his body, Louis could really think that the young man was suffering because his face was stretched into a grimace. His eyes were strongly closed, frowning and drawn with a little bit of sweat, lower lip caught and bitten by his long teeth.  
He slipped no sound, he was enormously tense, so that his back did not touch the wooden table, stained with their sweat.

Only when Liam leaned over and hid at the same time, Zayn's fragile body, to whisper in his ear, the young man finally relaxed and let himself breathe again. And then, as if a spell had been cast, he relaxed, his body resting gently on the table. He stopped torturing his lips and gently ran his tongue over them. Then, like a Pandora's box, all his vices were finally able to get out. And what began as a low moan that could be compared to those issued in pain, quickly transformed into loud moans full of desire. These sounds seemed to bring Liam to go harder, pulling him even more to him, to sink more into him. The worst being that Zayn seemed to love it. His face was more relaxed now and he looked, actually, in heaven. As if there were no better feeling on this planet.

The two men, invaded by pleasure which kept on growing, were wobbling the wooden table even more. So much so that a solitary potato fell to the floor in a sound that was like a racket to Louis and with the swell which tilted the boat, this potato unconsciously rolled towards Louis, who was still hidden in the home of the room.  
For it is not clear what chain of actions, Liam although very busy, watched this potato which ended up at Louis' feet.

Soon, everything changed. Louis could finally look away and blushed from head to foot. He turned toward the wall to give the false impression that he was not observing them just now. From the corner of his eye, he saw Liam draw away from Zayn and heard the latter drop a sharp sound, full of misses. Then the two men were busy getting presentable as quickly as possible. Louis did not give them a look. Liam also fled the room as quickly as physically possible, snapping involuntarily, the door behind him.  
Silence then fell back into the room. Louis, still ashamed of his conduct, ashamed of having failed this test from God, dared not look in Zayn's eyes.

Indeed, it was the young man who took the first step by softly whispering, his accent barely noticeable, Louis' name. The latter then forced himself to turn to the boy, whose look was completely disarranged. His hair going everywhere, wet temples and neck, face flushed and huge eyes, clothes barely in order. He tried to open his mouth, apparently unsure of what to say, but Louis did not give him time to say anything.

"Are you crazy?! Zayn, what was that? Are you even aware of what you just did?" Louis' loud voice wore off gradually and every word bounced one by one on the close walls of that room and eventually disappeared. Zayn was not looking, he had his eyes on the ground, like a child being scolded. As there would be obviously no answers, Louis continued.

"I mean Zayn, you are a religious person. Damn, you must be the only other person who has religious values on this boat. You cannot do that." Once again, he did not answer right away, he bit his lip for long, surely thinking about what to say to that. Certainly finding any excuses, he finally sat down, leaving his explanations.

"What do you want me to tell you Louis? I don't know how it happened. The only thing I know is that I love him and he loves me too." Louis grimaced upon hearing that, he could not believe he was hearing such nonsense, but he gave himself the courage to forgive Zayn who was at heart, still a child. He sighed deeply and approached the boy, looking at him kindly and trying to do this gently.  
"Zayn, dear, he does not love you. Don't you understand that? He cannot love you. It's biologically impossible." The brown-haired boy stared at him in the eye with a look of sadness and Louis was sincerely sorry to break his young love as well. But then, Louis was not prepared at all to getting knocked back, threatening to break his back against the wall. He had a surprised and shocked expression looking at Zayn, who was dark and sad.

"You know nothing about me Louis. You don't know what happened. You know nothing about the relationship between Liam and me. We really love each other. With a love as pure as it exists. But you, you don't know. you don't know what love is. How could you recognize it?"

The man to whom the question was turned, really did not know what he could answer. For there was, in reality, even if he refused to admit it, a lot of truth. He was not a specialist of love, he really knew what was authorized in the Bible and what was experienced by the people surrounding him. Nevertheless, these people as well were not, either, experts of this feeling. We never had him learned nothing about love. And it certainly was not, at least he hoped, what he felt for his wife.

He did not answer. Zayn did not utter a word. He sat at the table that was messy, and took his current job, peeling potatoes. Louis who was still standing against the wall, not really knowing what to say or do, felt oddly vile. He did not know why, because he had done nothing more than follow the codes of religion. We had repeated it hundreds of times to him, from his childhood and throughout his life, that men and women with this lifestyle, had a ready place in hell. Had rehashed it again and again that the relations maintained by these men were physical, they were acting on malignant impulses and that only a madman could call this kind of liaison anything affectionate or even loving.

All that the man knew looking at Zayn peel one by one the potatoes, is that he felt guilty. He knew he was why the boy let his black hair fall before his eyes, and the reason behind his runny nose. He slept very little that night.

Contrary to what he thought, the atmosphere between the two colleagues did not change. Two days after the incident, Zayn had returned to Louis and began a banal discussion, showing no sign of bitterness. Louis was a little surprised but accepted this course back because Zayn was an interesting boy, full of goodness, who took great care of Louis and this despite his character which was sometimes annoying. They did not speak of what had happened. They had both made the silent promise not to talk about it, they pretended not to remember.

Things have however changed. Their relationship now discovered, Liam and Zayn did not hesitated to show off before Louis. It was, of course, not as obvious and sensual than the first confrontation, but it was there. And despite all Louis' efforts to forget, not to be stare, it was now impossible.  
Liam, barely a foot in the kitchen and in spite of his imposing figure, blushed a darker shade so that Louis often worried about his health. He now spoke very little when he came, he was always on Zayn's back, whispering words into another language, in his ear. Both men were constantly in the vital space of one another, sharing caresses wanted secret, whispering words against their shiny skin in the firelight, sometimes exchanging kisses a lot more timid than what had been seen before.

All this was private, it was not supposed to be seen by anyone. But Louis could not help but look, as soon as he knew that the two men were in the room, he could not keep his eyes for himself. In one way or another, his eyes always ended up back on them. And when he realized this, he looked away, shameful and disgusted with himself, not understanding what was going on.  
Louis told himself that he hated to see them, and that he felt disgusted by their displays of affection, but deep down, there was a real curiosity, which increased daily.

The nights were probably the worst for him. Because surrounded by nothing but colanders and the infinite calm of the sea, he could stop the torment and questions of his mind. Before all this, surrounded by his wife and furniture of his house, he could indulge in believing that this whole charade was his life. But today, what could he do if not think? Especially that every night, when the hours began to get dark, Zayn left the room, looking absently behind him and disappearing into the night. He came back only in the morning, hair messy and smiling. Louis took a week and three days to understand that he joined Liam to spend the night with him.

And once again, the two friends did not speak about it. There were not matters of confidences or secrets between these two, but a friendship rested on discretion and work. The sea air probably rose to his head because  several times, watching Liam and Zayn, he thought he recognized  affection. He dared not say love. And not this agreed affection that can exist between a man and a woman who were promised a wedding long before birth. No, Louis perceived an affection he had never seen but he often read the description of. And it was not normal, it was not even natural.

Louis rested this change of mind on the fact that he spent so much time around the crew of a pirate ship. It was not willingly that he did so, but when you live with two hundred sailors, it is impossible not to cross them. And sometimes, when he passed over the bridge or it was his daily walk, he happened to hear the conversation of two or three pirates. And although the conversation is not the most refined, Louis realized that they were not as stupid as he thought. Perhaps they did not speak of literature, science or philosophy, but they all spoke of life and the experiences it provides with a certain knowledge, a knowledge that he had never heard in the mouths of so-called scholars. Thus, he sometimes astonished himself to sit near them and listen carefully to them relating with passions their stories, their misadventures, their passions and sorrows. Sometimes Louis rolled his eyes, sometimes he laughed, sometimes he smiled and sometimes he was so shaken by an extraordinarily well-posed sentence, he had to withdraw.

And there was of course, this captain. Harry, he had learned, was the name of the captain. He did not know much more, because the men do not talk more than that of their captain. Which added a little mystery to this boy. And there was the sole reason why Louis was so intrigued by the character. At least that's what he liked to believe. He often saw the man on the quarterdeck or the poop deck, hair stuck under a hat, a few strands flying low. Two green orbits were constantly focused on the distance, on the horizon that presented itself. He sailed the boat as if he knew where he was heading. Louis took the unhealthy habit of observing when he came to his walk. And he felt a strange sadness when he did not see the pirate perched up there.  
In addition, Louis was pardoned now, to serve the pirates, three nights a week, their suppers. He thus saw himself serve the captain the wooden bowl with trembling hands and a concerned look. He did not know exactly why, but he wanted the man to give him at least a look or a word. Something more than just a nod as thanks. Unfortunately, to this day, Louis had not had more chances than that.

He did not really know where he got this strange need to please the strange man without moral and certainly not worth more than him. Because Louis had rubbed shoulders in his young life, with people from the upper classes, which deserved respect and yet he did not want more than that. He did not care much if the people noticed him or not, if they knew about him or not. Yet he wanted the captain, as shameful as it sounds, to notice him, to see him, to do something. Something in him, something hidden deep within him, expressed that this search for pleasuring the man, was very definitely in relation with Louis' dreams. These dreams he had always done, these shameful dreams he tried somehow to fight, who in the recent weeks had been more vivid and more attractive than ever. Every night he closed his eyes, another dream came to him which featured the things he would not dare to even utter. He prayed every day, begging the Lord to help him keep the strength to fight his sin and every night a new dream took him. Louis had the frightening certainty that God was giving up on him for having so quickly accustomed to this life of crime. He still kept praying. One never knows, God may hear him.

A new day was going slowly. It had nothing more extraordinary than all the others, was it not that the weather was particularly hot. This meant that all the pirates were much slower than usual. Nobody wanted to make efforts in such a stifling heat. Even the captain seemed looser than usual, his hat was not pressed on his head, having decided to leave his long brown hair flying.

It was the hour of the walk for Louis, he was gently sitting on the steps of the narrow staircase leading to the forecastle, passing from time to time the back of his hand against his sweaty forehead. The captain was on the other side of the boat, looking straight ahead, unperturbed. Louis sighed. On the deck, there was a man who was too old to work, mopping tirelessly. Louis had learned that the wood of the deck had to be constantly wet, if it was not the case, the wood would dry and might crack. There were not many people, it was rather unusual, the other men preferring to hide in the cool of the main deck or holds. A man with an eye patch stuck his head out of the main deck, he protected his eyes from the sun and looked around. His eye fell on Louis and he smiled. The young man, felt uncomfortable. He did not like being the centre of attention of these men, because even though so far none of them had been violent or offensive, he was always afraid of them. He remembered them as barbarians who killed and spread the blood of a Royal Navy ship.

Louis got up, stumbling a bit, head swinging. Definitely an effect of an early dehydration. His goal was to return as soon as possible in the kitchen, under the protection of pots and Zayn. But before he could walk half the way, the man had already approached him. Louis did not like judging people's appearance, because after all, it was the work of the Lord, but this time, he could not help thinking that the man was terribly ugly. A skin burnt by the sun and dug through the years, teeth were missing and others were dropped. His only visible eye was a bland brown, without any expression or life, a strange malice shone there.

"Sir, my comrade feels bad. You're a doctor, you could see what's wrong with 'im?" Louis did not pick up on that he certainly did not have the social place to be called Sir, and simply considered this request. His instinct advised him not to accept and continue his way to the kitchen, but his doctor soul who had not exercised for a long time, encouraged him to accept this proposition. He motioned to the man and with his most assured voice to show him the way. The young man did not notice nor the proud smile of the pirate nor the worried look of the captain.

For the first time, Louis set foot on the main deck which was just right below the deck. And one thing is certain, he did not expect it to be so dark and cool. The young man could not see a thing and tried, somehow, to follow the man with the eye patch. He could only trust his hearing, and heard but could not see hundreds of sounds. Steps, whispers and squeaks that were undoubtedly rats, sneezing, fatty laughter. The more he advanced, the more Louis wondered how he could see much less heal the sick man. He threatened to fall several times by stumbling over various ropes. There were here and there, oil lamps that lit dimly this place and Louis felt surrounded by hard and hostile faces. The fear began to climb, but he knew that even if he tried to turn back, he would lose himself in the dark, and then it would be almost impossible to find the light. Finally the man stopped and Louis still saw nothing, the place was strangely silent.

"Oy you were right, it's a nice piece of meat, that he is!" Louis heard without being able to see this incongruous voice, the accent strange. He did not understand what it all meant. But he was afraid. He began to back away but bumped against something hard, then he was pushed to the ground and hit his head against the ground. Everything was then slower, more difficult to understand.

He was dragged for few feet, he heard voices but could not manage to understand what was said, it was two men. We pulled him by the coat but also by the hair, he groaned weakly in pain, too much in the shadows to make more noise. He found himself on his knees, which were sore and soaked, his dangling hands on either side of his thighs, head heavy and aching. The two men appeared to be in a conflict because their whispers were rushed in panic and full of anger. A hand pulled his hair compelling him to raise his head, his skull stung, he had tears in his eyes.

"I'll choke him on my cock." Laughter followed that sentence and Louis, who was beginning to regain consciousness began to panic. He tried to stand up, to pull out, but he was forced to stay on his knees, not moving. And he saw nothing, he was in total darkness, we were suffocated here. The first tears rolled down his cheeks when he felt something hard and hot altering their way.  
"You love my dick, whore?" Louis understood then that what was touching him was indeed the intimacy of this man. He tried to back away, to get away from this crap but we clutched his head, he was stuck. Louis wanted to disappear, to die, to not stand this situation. He cried more when we forced him to open his mouth by pushing on his jaw. He was sure, it was over.

And yet, when the worst was about to take place, he no longer felt nothing and heard a hoarse growl. The man had just disappeared. He saw nothing, but he clearly heard the thud of a blow and the man who was still holding him was sent with violence to the ground. Louis was not breathing, did not dare make any noise for fear that this beast who had just attacked his two aggressors, now attacks him. He felt the blood drained from his body when a hand touched his shoulder, he walked away from that gesture with a concealed cry. He stepped back a few feet and pathetically begged that person not to hurt him.

"Shh, Louis. Don't worry, I will not hurt you." It had been several weeks that Louis had not heard that voice, yet he recognized it immediately. His body relaxed then, even if he did not know why.  
"Let me help you ?" The silence stretched between them, as Louis had no idea whether to trust the man. After all, this was probably his fault. Yet it was out of the question that he remained here with these crazy men, and he agreed in a small voice, the man's help. He groaned slightly in surprise when he felt arms go around his waist and under his legs, but he did not do more. He did not complain, letting himself be carried by the captain, his heavy head resting against the shoulder of the man and his arms hanging lightly around the sun bitten shoulders.

Soon, they found the blinding light from outside and Louis kept his eyes closed for a moment, his eyes still accustomed to the black. When he opened his eyes, he growled, light much brighter than he thought. When his eyes stopped crying, he could finally see Harry's face which was full of anger, very closed. Louis felt guilty for some reason he did not know, for having put this expression on the man's face. After a brief journey into the man's arm, which was much nicer than Louis would admit, the two men ended up back where it all began. Harry's cabin. The young captain gently deposited his burden on the sheets and covered him. Although he did not understand, Louis gladly accepted this comfort that could only be beneficial for his abused skull.

His saviour then sat beside him and had a surprising gesture. He began tenderly stroking the hair of his captive. The latter did not make a move, not knowing how to welcome it.

"I'm sorry." Whispered so low, Louis almost missed those few words, he did not understand. Why was the man apologizing? Seeking answers was too exhausting for Louis in the state where he was. His eyes fell without his command, the captain's gestures oddly soothing. Eyes half closed, he was lulled by the pleasant swirl of waves and the volatile hand that soothed his pain. He realized he was about to fall asleep when heavy footsteps awoke him. He opened his eyes to see Liam, in the doorway, his big brown eyes open like two saucers and torso stirring in a disproportionate manner which demonstrated that he had run. His eyes moved rapidly between Louis, installed in the bed, shook-looking and Harry tenderly stroking his skull while he has on the face the darkest and violent expression he had ever seen.

"Liam, take Wesley and Hamlin in the hold, tie them and wait for my return. These two bastards need to learn to respect the men on this ship." His voice was hard and full of anger, which brought Louis out of his light sleep, it was the first time the young doctor saw the captain otherwise than calm and composed. It was certainly unusual because Liam seemed surprised too, those already amazed eyes opened more widely. Instead of immediately obeying, as he should do facing his captain, the bearded man stood there, not knowing what to do with his imposing stature.

"Harry, I don't think you have very clear ideas, take the time to calm..." Liam was trying to change his mind, Louis frowned for that. He really did not understand what the big problem was, these men deserved this punishment, given the heinous crime they had almost done and they would have not hesitated for a second to do so, if Harry had not stopped them. Harry's hand was now locked in his hair, which was a bit strange. Louis watched the side of the young captain's face, who was a little more closed.

"Just do what I ask Liam!" His tone was rough, not announced, it removed any noise in the room. Said Liam's face fell a quarter of a second before resuming a dull and professional expression, he briefly nodded and turned around. The room was quiet again, Harry passed his hands over his face sighing. Then he looked back at Louis who held his breath, not knowing what to do. His green eyes slowly analyzed Louis' face, as to ensure himself that nothing had moved.

"From now on, you'll sleep with me in this cabin." With this, he got to his feet, removing his hat and placing it on the bed, to Louis's feet. The latter was afraid to understand, he rose in a sitting position with just a grunt of pain. He looked at the man in front of him, which was now withdrawing his heavy coat, as if he was crazy.  
"Are you joking? It is out of question that I stay here with you." Louis sent him the most insolent and firmer gaze he could, he could not sleep with another man, that would only trigger other forbidden dreams.

"I do not give you the choice. These men, they see women twice a year, they will jump on you at any opportunity. Unless they know you're mine, that nobody except me can touch you. You stay here." His tone was passionate, solemn and his eyes remained planted on Louis for a few seconds before he finally looked away and went to sit at his little ridiculous desk, keeping his head down.

Louis did not know what to say. He watched the man's profile for a while, trying to figure out who this man was. What was he playing? First of all, he saves him from a massacre to finally abandon him in the kitchen, he does not pay attention to his existence for weeks and now he saves him from an attack. Only now he decides to pay attention to him, Louis did not understand this man. Sheltered by the warmth of the cabin and the soothing sound of a pen against rough paper, Louis rested his swinging head against the pillow and it did not take long for him to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Louis follows the man with the eye patch to the main deck, he is attacked by him and another man. They try to force him into a blowjob but Harry comes to fight them and saves him. He carries Louis in his arms to his cabin and lays him on his bed. Harry calls Liam and orders him to take the two men to a hold to punish them. Harry apologizes to Louis and says that he will from now on sleeps in his cabin so the crew will understand that Louis is out of reach. Louis tries to protest but Harry won't hear it, tired he falls asleep in Harry's bed. 
> 
> Here we go, hope everything is clear !


	3. P A R T III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is married to a woman he does not love, he hates cats and may have a thirst for adventure, Harry is surely the captain of this ship and has problems with plates, Liam must handle everything, Zayn is happy with his place and Niall just wanted to get away from the mainland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this part. Currently writing the next part, but it's going to be a long part so I don't know when it'll be out. Enjoy !

Once again, Louis's change of circumstances was rather insignificant and disappointing. No lie, Louis was certain that after this act of anger and pronounced possession, his life would change on the ship. It had been a dream like any other, these forbidden dreams that escape from his head after hours of analysis and anger on himself, but sometimes he regretted that dream. This idea that it would now be at the mercy of the pirate. They shared a bed after all, which was still very strange to Louis, who had never shared bed with someone other than his wife. Yet the captain had never tried anything. Not a hand, never exceeding the imaginary boundary that separated the two sides of the bed That should cheer him up, really. Louis did not know why, it bothered him so that the captain had never forced his hand.

He was still working in the kitchen, helping Zayn all day peeling vegetables, preparing meals, cleaning still plates and bowls. Every day, except in the rain, he walked on the boat, looked over the edge sometimes, hoping to spot a seabed mythical creature. Three nights a week, he served their plates to pirates who constantly kept their heads down. It was mostly what had changed, the behaviour of each. Harry's plan had worked well for now, no more pirates did not dare send a single glance in Louis' direction. The story between the latter and the two crooks had been rumoured, as well as the punishment that has been inflicted on them, no one had a word to say about the prisoner.

The behaviour of the young captain had also changed, finally Louis had all his attention. He could now see the pirate protective eyes when he was walking on the deck. No matter what he did or where he was, Harry still found a way to monitor its captive, to ensure that no one approached him, so as not to reproduce the error again. In the evenings when he served their meal, he now gave him a look, sometimes even thanking him calmly. And that filled Louis with a greater contentment than reason. And of course, now that they sleep in the same bed, it is clear that some things are not the same.

Every night, as the sun slowly disappeared behind the slow waves of the ocean, Louis joined a cabin he probably never will call his own. And once again, he was disappointed by the reality of what a pirate is. He did not know if all the stories he had heard in his youth had some basis in fact or whether they were fabricated. Harry was not a noisy man who spent his evenings drinking and telling silly stories about his life spent at sea. He was actually very quiet and reserved. He was not lazy and did his faire share of work on the boat, when evening came, he continued to study for hours on the maps. To trace and retrace their path, ensuring that the ship would not encounter any giant monster or disturbing storm. Rare were the times when he exchanged more than two words with Louis before falling into bed, tired.

The evenings were so very long in this cabin where reigned silence.

During an evening of high winds, boredom was at its height for Louis, who was tired of hearing Captain's old pen scratching on paper. A man could count a hundred times the motions from the oil lamp before it becomes annoying and time was still too early to think about going to bed. Pulling on his shoes, he walked toward the door, hoping not to be noticed. But scarcely had his hand wrapped around the cold doorknob, the Captain's hoarse voice arose, asking him where he intended to go.

"I'm bored. I just thought about joining Zayn." The captain had not even stopped writing, not giving him a single second his attention, which annoyed Louis more, he prevented himself hard not to roll his eyes.  
"At this hour, Zayn must be with Liam for a long time with, and I'm not sure he would be happy that you disturb them." He had a proud smile on his face which left Louis guessing he liked to make him feel uncomfortable.

"You are aware about them?" Louis was rather surprised, he thought he was the only one aware of this strange relationship between the two men. Harry finally stopped writing and turned to Louis.  
"Who isn't?" He asked it with such ease that it disrupted honestly Louis, who wondered for a minute on what bawdy boat he had fallen. His eyes widened and his mouth in "O" shape amused Harry who laughed slightly. Louis could not admit it, but the strange sensation that was accomplished in his belly and his desire to smile both had a link with that laugh.

"Okay, if I bore you that much, I'm ready to give up on this work and talk a little." To punctuate his intention, he put his pen down and directed his attention on Louis, who then felt a little uncomfortable. He was not expecting this turnaround. Yet Harry looked at him with big green eyes. Louis found it hard to understand this situation. He returned without a word, to sit on the bed and looked quizzically the young pirate, who had not moved or hissed a word.  
"What do you want to discuss about?" This situation oddly reminded Louis of Medicine school. This feeling of always being spied, of always making a mistake even when he did nothing. Louis was an adult and yet, he felt little under the watchful eyes of Harry.

"I don't know, you are the one bored here." The man was struggling to remove the smile from his face, a funny grimace and Louis wanted to laugh. He did not however, because he does not know whether to be insulted or not. The young man groaned and sat more comfortably on the bed, trying to sound more comfortable. This proved to be more difficult than expected. He could not help playing with the sheets that were so soft under his fingers, showing his awkwardness.  
"Talk to me, that's all I ask. Stop acting as if I was not in that room with you." Strangely, the brown-haired man's smile fell away, as if Louis' words had burned him. He looked at him for a long moment, an expression that frightened a little the man lying on the bed He did not know exactly what he had said that was so consequential but it quieted the captain for a little while.

"I never forget that you are in the room. It's almost impossible to me. And what I try to do is not to annoy you or make you feel rejected, I'm just trying to give you space." Despite the wind which was loudly whistling the sails, Louis felt a heavy and palpable hush came crashing on them.  
"I'm not stupid, I suspect that you must hate me for what I have done. And now I'm forcing you to share the same bed as me. I don't want to choke you with my presence." He finally stopped, appearing suddenly so young and fragile in his heavy clothes and this huge chair. Once again, Louis was completely shocked by the sincerity of this individual. He should not be like that, he should be violent and bloody and unbearable. The image he presented to Louis during their first meetings. A battalion of feelings was raging inside his belly and Louis found it hard to push them deeply within himself.

"Well, thank you. But I understand that my situation will not change, and so I have to accommodate. That will not happen if you do not talk to me." Louis's voice was shaky for a reason he ignored.  
"Very well !" His voice was rising in acute to hide the emotion that was there. "Tell me about yourself, I want to know all the exciting adventures of the captain of Hera." Again, a smile sat on the face of that captain.

"It's not that interesting. It's mostly a lot of time sailing, sometimes you come across a small marine ship or a merchant. I don't like to loot them as I know they have not much. In general, if I see that they are poorer than we are, I pass them without a second look." The man had a way of telling things, his voice heavy and stirring enormously his big hands, which made even the most mundane stories, interesting. Louis listened as if he held in the corner of his mouth, all the answers to his questions.  
"I try above all to pay attention to my men, to find everything they need. After all, they joined me for this pirate's life will never be worse than what the land promises us."

From a quite sincere point of view, their conversations were not that rich that night. No really important or sensitive topics were addressed, especially a lot of stories on piracy and techniques. But in the wind of all these stories and explanations, Louis sometimes managed to derive information on the pirate. For example, he learned that the man had spent his childhood in the countryside, in the company of goats and cows. It was nothing special but nevertheless Louis treasured this information close to his heart. For this story, however insignificant it may be, made Harry and all the shadow behind this character more human.

That night, when his head hit the pillow, Louis had not completely changed his mind about the man. He wasn't imagining that the captain was actually a sensitive and refined man with whom life had not been kind and did not deserve this harsh judgment. But he also could not see him as a man thirsty for blood, who amused himself by raping women and killing children. He did not know how to describe the captain, nor what to do with his changing feelings he felt particularly strong. But he knew without a shadow of a doubt, that something had changed.

Louis was not bored anymore. The evening coming, he no longer dragged his feet, knowing that he had to walk to the captain's cabin. It's not like he jumped joyfully, but it was more thereabouts. The captain, although still serious in his mapping work, talked to him regularly. Some nights, he was more talkative than others, he exchanged more than others. Louis did not dare say he knew this man but he was no longer a scary stranger. He sometimes spoke of his youth, quietly approached the subject of family, embarked on endless stories about the sea creatures he never sighted. It was rather distracting. However, the great passion of the captain, the one that made him laugh out loud and sometimes made him stagger, was to annoy Louis.

He could not prohibit himself an opportunity to see him frustrated or angry, seeing him scream and argue for a subject or another. What was the most fun is that it was so easy to do. Louis was a real bundle of nerves, like a cannonball with a highly flammable string, Harry was the flame. And although Louis complained permanently about the childlike attitude of the captain, one should not be very clever to realize that in reality he appreciated as much these disputes.  
In truth, he appreciated the young pirate more than he would like. Louis, in his moments of weakness, tried to remember who he was and what he had accomplished in the past. Yet in the late afternoon, when he joined the captain's cabin, he could not help but be happy. And that strange happiness, unseemly, urged him to have increasingly strange dreams that made him uncomfortable once the light of day back.

This is why, for an evening of light rain sprinkled slowly the boat and its crew, the young doctor found himself in the cabin alone with an old Bible he had found by chance in the captain's affairs. This edition was very old and in very bad shape. However, the words were the same and the message was clear for the young man. Rereading the scriptures, he felt a little closer to his God and silently asked His forgiveness. He knew he was being transformed under the negative influence of the pirates, and was trying to fight it. He did not know if he did a good job but the simple fact of being able to touch the holy book, calmed a bit his Christian soul.

Louis was interrupted by the creaking hinges of the door and the heavy steps of the captain who was entering his cabin. His coat and hat were covered with a thin film of water, and he trembled slightly. Louis watched him remove his cap and shake in a disorderly manner, his long curls that fell gently on his shoulders. He took off his coat awkwardly, watering the room with beads of water and the young man on the bed in the process. Immediately, the man landed on his desk, starting an endless job. Louis sighed deeply, shaking his head, resuming his reading.  
The man was so absorbed in his reading of the divine texts, he did not notice at all that the captain had stopped writing to observe him.

Harry had no idea himself, how he managed to sleep every night next to the man and not try one thing. It was a mystery to no one, especially not him, that he was terribly attracted to the frail man with thin hair against his forehead, his thin pale lips, his methodical hands, absolutely perfect body but especially, those eyes . Harry was not a man of cliché, he avoided them when he could. Yet when he saw the angel looking man on the shabby deck amid dirty sailors, he could not help but notice the deep and enchanting colour of his eyes. Despite his title of pirate, Harry could not say he was in love with the ocean. He admired and respected her for what she brought to him, but he had not fallen under the enigmatic charm that contained the big blue. But the young pirate could probably fall in love with this man's eyes.

Louis thought Harry never paid any attention to him, he just hasn't realize how wrong he was. These days, it even seemed that the captain could not get his eye away from him. And when the young man's electric eyes lost themselves far away or too focused on one task, he allowed himself to observe without any discomfort. With time spent watching him, Harry could draw eyes closed the way he moves, he talks, the point of fear in his eyes when one of the sailors approaches a little too close, the calm on his face when sleeping. Harry knew all this because his attention was constantly on his captive, and although sometimes the frustration of being able to watch but not touch became too unbearable, he would not change anything at all to their situation.

At that moment, Harry found the little man more beautiful than ever, comfortably sitting on his bed, biting his nails like a little animal, eyes focused and face relaxed. In all honesty, the captain did not have only beautiful poetic images in his head when he saw Louis on his bed More than a hundred times, he imagined fucking the man until the latter cried of pleasure. Hands clinging to the blanket, moaning and clenching in pleasure. Eyes closed, mouth open, breathing heavily. Harry could spend hours imagining all sorts of erotic scenarios, each more challenging than the last. However, he tried not to do it when he was in the same room with Louis, because afterward it was too hard to look back and have to be content with his simple fantasies.

The captain, behind down in his chair, hungry eyes stared at the man on his bed. Hands clenched on his thighs, his nails making their small marks in his chair, the young man was contracting a superhuman strength not to touch himself. Closing forcefully his green eyes, the pirate took a few seconds to calm himself down and when he opened them again, he decided to entertain himself by focusing on what his comrade what doing, rather than the comrade himself.

"Where did you find it?" The voice of the young captain revived Louis in his intense reading, he raised his two blue beads at him, questioning look. Harry seemed both surprised and a little annoyed as he watched with disdain the Bible that the little man stroked with his thin fingers.  
"Somewhere in one of the trunks." Louis immediately looked away, pretending to read, hoping that Harry would not call him out on the fact that he was rummaging through his things. This was not the case, but when Louis heard what the captain had to say, he would have preferred a thousand times to be reprimanded about it.  
"If I were you, I would not carry so much belief in a stupid book." And that was it. He turned to his desk as if he did not openly insulted Louis. The latter remained motionless, so outraged because of what he had heard. It was most certainly one of the worst things that had been said to him in all his life. Louis could not believe it, Harry could not say such a thing without expecting some reproaches. Doesn't he has any pride, Louis wondered. More mad than he was in a very long time, he grabbed the first thing that came to his hand, ironically it was the Bible, and threw it with all his might on Harry. The book touched him in the head before falling heavily to the ground, breaking the spine and dozens pages scattering throughout the room.

The shock was not terrible but was still violent. Harry turned his gaze to Louis, furious. He rose hastily from his chair, grinding his feet on the ground. For a moment Louis feared that his gesture was one too many and that finally the pirate would show what he was capable of. However, he refused to show his fear and stood tall and proud, ready to face the man.  
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The rage was evident in his voice and in his eyes and in every part of his body, yet he had not acted on it. Louis was expecting any second to receive a blow to the face, or perhaps to the stomach. Nothing happened however. The two men simply engaged in a duel of cold and hateful looks that lasted several seconds. The silence was tense and the breaths panting. Finally, the captain was the first to calm down, a little warmth back into his colourful pupils, he sought the face of Louis. This sudden change in behaviour, from cold to hot in less than a few seconds, Louis was baffled and annoyed even more.

"Have you ever went to church Harry?" Harry thought he had to respond when the little man kept on speaking, he closed his mouth. "Have you ever prayed? Have you ever read the Bible?" When several seconds of silence passed after the last question, Harry realized that it was finally his time to answer. As he realized that all of this really annoyed the little one, he decided to tell him the whole truth.  
"I've done all those things, yes." Lowering his head and clearing his throat, the man knew that this conversation would not please him. It was too close, too intimate, and he did not want to venture into this forgotten part of his person. Louis in anger, did not notice that Harry's behaviour had changed, he was the only one upset now.

"Then explain to me what happened for you to become like that, damn it!" Instantly, the anger faded from Louis' face, giving way to shock and regret. "Oh my God, I did not..." Once again, the little one was outraged because of what he had said, he rarely blasphemed. "Fuck it is not, no!" Frustrated and angry against himself, Louis decided to press his hand to his mouth before saying more nonsense. He raised both alerted eyes to Harry, who found it hard to hide his amusement at the situation. When the blue-eyed boy noticed the smile that made its way on the captain's face, he had trouble holding his own smile, it was infectious.  
"Do not make fun of me !" He said, gently striking the arm of the pirate, this smooth gesture was the straw that broke the camel's back and he laughed.

Yet gently stirred with a laugh, he sat next to Louis, just close enough to inhale the sweet scent of the young man, a mixture of sea salt and chestnut, strange. His neighbour looked at him without saying a word, Harry had only one desire and that was to lean forward in order to bury his nose in this delicate neck, to be able to feel even more the delicious smell that was his. However, he soon lost that desire by remembering what he had to do.  
"You really want to know what happened to me?" Louis was less sure now that he saw the trouble on Harry's face. He was well aware that it was a difficult subject for him, he did not want to hurt him intentionally, but he wanted to get some answers. To try to understand a little better the so discreet character that was the pirate. Swallowing his saliva once, he nodded his head half a inch. Harry sighed and scratched his head, leaving the exchange of glances to peer straight ahead.

"Younger, whether you believe it or not, religion was all my life. Everything I did, I did thinking about God. I even dreamed of becoming a priest, if not ironic?" The pirate laughed shortly, but it was not amused, it was pained. Louis wanted to tell him to stop, not to hurt himself. But he wanted to know, he felt that it was important. A turning point in the history of the pirate. "So I was a young boy who never did anything stupid, I read the Bible regularly, I went to church as soon as the opportunity presented itself, did my prayer every night. It was very important to me."

Time seemed to stand still around them, the waves had ceased their swirls and the wind was quiet to give the floor to Harry. His audience, frowning and mouth open, drank his every word.

"My faith was a bit upset when my father died on a construction site and my mother to support me, began to sell her body. Which made her unhappy and very cold. And you know, despite all this, I continued to pray... for my mother. I thought that if I prayed hard enough and I did everything to be a good little Christian, God would help us, my mother and I." Harry's voice was shaking as his face showed no emotion. Louis was upset and did not realize he had started to grip with all his strength, the dirty linen of his garment. "So when my mother died as well, in pain and screaming at me to disappear because she no longer knew who I was, I just... stopped believing."

He finally stopped talking and Louis could only thank him silently. It was too much information. The young man was completely horrified by this story and could not do anything but stand there and watch sadly the pirate's profile. His nose stung him. Louis did not know how to react, should he say something? Stay quiet ? Console the pirate? He had no idea. And even if that were the case, he did not know if that would do any good.

He suspected that something dramatic had ever change this man, but he was not prepared for this kind of confession. The fact is that Louis, as he hates to admit, was born into a wealthy family. He has always known luxury, tapestries, beds and silk curtains. His family owned a large, old house in Yorkshire where he spent his childhood. He still remembers the smell of furniture all just polished and the large garden behind, which was decorated with a small well that no longer served for many years. He had a tender memory of the maids with climbing boots, which waved at him when he passed and sometimes behind the back of his mother, offered him some small pastries and sweets.  
Louis had no idea what misery was, he was never really faced to it. So learning the hard cutting truth that hurts the heart, about a man who was once a young boy like him. A boy he imagined cheerful and laughing before the misfortune came upon him. At this time, and although Louis made all the world's efforts to stop this thought, he understood why the pirate had stopped believing.

Cut in his thinking by a vague motion before his misty eyes, Louis had no choice but to return to reality. Harry's face was harder, colder. Louis was well aware that the young man was trying to cope with this situation, these explanations that choked him. And when he raised his voice to articulate his next sentence, his voice also sounded different, Louis thought it was because he wanted to cry. And he understood, himself felt moved.

"I don't know what I could have done at ten to deserve such a fate, and if you judge me for what I am going to say next, it's up to you. I stubbornly refuse to believe and even less respect a God like this." The pirate lost his temper on that last sentence, he had flame in his eyes and a drumming heart. Realizing the shadow disappearing behind Louis' eyes, Harry knew he would make a mistake if he remained stupidly sat there. So he arose, with no real ambition, heading toward the window, looking down at length and breathing in to calm down.

Louis, still sat on the bed, almost unable to move, watched the pirate. His heart was pounding because something in him contradicted his faith for the first time. What kind of God would let a poor boy of ten years old alone, without parents to educate him, to love him? This is not what he had been taught. His parents, his missed grandmother, teachers, priests, without exception, had taught him that the Lord was fair and punished the sinners. Those who had raped, killed, robbed, blasphemed. What had the young Harry done? The little boy who prayed every night and who dreamed of serving the Lord. Louis did not understand at all and therefore, did not despise Harry to have lost faith, in a way he understood.

"I am sorry." He did not know why he said that, he had no real reason to apologize. Yet he felt it was the thing to do. Harry turned and his bright green eyes, questioned him. Louis could not answer him, he did not know why he was apologizing. He was the first to look away, because at that moment, it was too hard to look the boy in the eye, now he knew. Considering his crossed hands, he heard the pirate sadly sighed. From the corner of his eye, he scanned the pirate who came to lie on his side on the bed and gently laid his head against the pillow. Louis could not say exactly how long he remained seated, without moving, staring aimlessly ahead. He tried not to think about anything and especially not to imagine a boy with curls, mourning the death of his mother. Very soon, however, he heard the slow, measured breathing of the young man behind him. Finally allowing himself to turn his head, Louis studied for a moment the features of the boy who seemed much more peaceful than he was a few minutes ago.

Without thinking, Louis went up a little on the bed, his lean form over the more robust one of the pirate. His eyes were closed, lashes gently resting against his pale cheeks, lips slightly parted in a quiet breath, hair surrounding his face artistically. Thus looking at him, Louis could forget that this man was a feared pirate, and could just let this image speak to him. The more he watched him, the worst he felt for judging him so quickly. This feeling of shame had not yet left and he didn't know how to make it disappear.

Louis wanted to pass a hand through his long hair, this desire never left him really, but he abstained as always. And today was no exception. He nevertheless grant himself a treat, something he hoped not serious, something that would be easily forgiven. He put his hand gently on Harry's arm and he immediately noticed two things: his hand was significantly lighter compared to the golden shade that was the pirate's skin, the size of his fingers seemed ridiculous placed on  Harry's biceps. That contact, already too much for the smaller man, he wanted to get his hand back, turn around and never remember what he had dared to do. But he felt other fingers coming to rest on his own, he stood frozen, breath blocked.

He could now see the slender fingers and somewhat damaged by the fighting, intertwined perfectly with his own, smaller, more chubby. It was a strange picture, different, unexpected. Louis didn't know what to do. His mind commanded him to stop that, but his entire body prevented him from moving. He stared at Harry whose eyes were only half open, a serene expression on the face, an almost invisible smile tracing his lips. Louis' heart quickened and he did not know why. It was not unpleasant, Harry's hand was large and warm and comforting. Not knowing what to do, which to listen to between his body or his mind, Louis lay exhausted all against Harry, hands still tied, he closed his eyes and soon fell fast asleep.

Feet under the table, beating an unknown pace, Louis was busy peeling potatoes. His technique was much better today, a few weeks on the boat were enough for him to improve. Also, he was not as upset at the idea of this task he hated before. If you asked him, Louis would answer that he would agree to perform any task if he could avoid cleaning the pots full of grease. He was now in a strangely cheerful mood. While peeling, he smiled and he knew exactly why, he simply refused to admit it completely.

Since that evening, which is still very strange for the young man who keeps rehashing the past events, Louis had finally felt that something had changed. Not only the relationship entertained by the two men, but also the thinking of the young sailor had changed. Although he would never admit to anyone his advanced thoughts, Louis could not see the captain as a barbarian or smug man anymore. Yet perhaps the latter, but less than before. He had, as it were, a whole new way of seeing this character. As if this evening of secret confession, intimate, secluded from all, had finally removed a little of that mist that hid who was actually Harry.  
However, it was not only a bearer of good news for the young man who got a grip on himself several times when observing a little too meticulously the man. He was lost in this concentrated and serene face who wrote with a sharp pen on paper too rough, or a hand in front of his face to block the sun, he was eyeing him up there on the poop deck, hair flying, a proud and neat look. Or his gaze lost in the evening when the pirate was sleeping on his back, sloping head, hair arranged around his beautiful head and neck, as laid there. The pirate had the distressed habit to sleep without nightclothes, shamelessly exposing his entire brown bust, dotted here and there with scars of changing shapes and paleness. Under these conditions, it was impossible for Louis to calm his forbidden thoughts and dreams, he pull himself together far too often imagining scenes that should deserve him some strike on the head.

  
Louis was certain that the situation would be easier to control if Harry had remained indifferent, if it was still cold, gave him no attention. Until now, it was quite the opposite. He was quieter and although he was never very talkative or hateful, it was in a good sense now, it was nice and not oppressive now. He was also much more attentive and sharing, Louis did not have to force the conversations anymore as they were flowing alone and covered all subjects. Harry was a decidedly strange boy with strange ideas, but he had conversation and knew when to shut up, who believe it, is a gift too little mastered. The last thing that has been discovered in thhe recent weeks on the pirate was that he was a very soft being. Which is strange for a pirate, isn't it? He was always nice enough, composed with his words and actions. When he touched Louis, which was rare but still made his the heart of the latter race, it was as if he laid hands on a precious flower, which at the slightest touch, threaten to fall to pieces.  
But his whole person was soft, his laugh, his voice, his hair or even his skin. All too often, Louis woke at first light of the sun and found himself humiliated, against the side of the pirate, an arm across his chest and a leg between the man's thighs, fortunately, still firmly asleep. He had never slept so well.

But what frightened Louis the most, was not all of that, even though it was already scary. His biggest fear rested in foreign feelings he felt towards the man when  all these things were going. It was something really tender, something that took his rib cage and sometimes he could not breathe. When Harry was telling an absurd story with this smile which fail to keep his tone serious and Louis could not help smiling back even if his mouth assured him he said nonsense. It really scared the doctor who had never felt it before. He had tried to get untangled, to stop this strange feeling but it was impossible to fight them. Louis then tried to live with them while not acting on them.

The young man was suddenly awakened since he threatened to cut off his finger. He grimaced, shook his head and went back to work, seriously. For a minute, then he was distracted again. It was not his fault, Liam and Zayn did not make it easy. Both men evolving more and more comfortable around Louis, they weren't hiding really. Tight against each other, head down, exchanging sentences sometimes in English, sometimes in Urdu, holding hands, caressing cheeks, a kiss sensual or shy. They did not hesitate. They surely thought those moments belonged to them without knowing that they had always a very attentive public, very considerate. Louis had not understood this change of situation, one day he couldn't turn his head far enough of this show and the other, he found himself watching them. The worst was that this observation was filled with curiosity and envy. Louis was trying to understand how it worked, what changed, how two men were acting together. As far as his observation was going for the moment, the young man could only confess that what he attended to really looked like love. He was jealous, though he knows he should not.

Louis, the knife still in his tired hand, looked at the couple without any restrictions, exchanging a kiss that seemed much nicer that no kiss should be. Liam snaked his tattooed arms around the skinny waist of his lover, pressing him against his chest. He whispered something that Louis failed to perceive, but he was glad not to when Zayn gave way and hardly breathed. Louis immediately looked away, knowing too well that difficult breathing. He caught at the corner of his eye Liam walking out of the room. Zayn, red-cheeked, took a seat in front of Louis and began working like him. He had a smile, he forced himself to hide it behind his growing hair.

For a moment there was no noise. Only the noise so particular of a sharp knife slicing hardly the potatoes. But for a while, an idea flourished in the brains of Louis. He was ashamed to ask for he knew what it would suggest, but he also knew that this question would not leave until he had an answer. He put down his knife, placed both soaked hands against his dirty pants and looked the teenager straight into his eyes. He laughed.  
"What is going on Lou, you look very determined." He continued to peel but Louis noticed properly that the boy seemed anxious. He always had fears when Liam came to visit him and Louis was there, since he didn't know whether the man was still disgusted by his person.

"I was just wondering how it took place between Liam and you? How did you became... uh lovers?" He felt ridiculous and seemed to be the teenager when he was an adult in front of Zayn. The latter looked at him with two large round eyes, puzzled and surprised. Maybe Louis was not as disappointed as he thought. Lowering his head to hide the blush that was settling on his cheeks, he began the story that changed his life.

"Initially, when I set foot in this kitchen, I was working for someone. It was a mature man, a French man, a big gruff with an even more notable accent than mine." Without realizing it, Zayn was cutting more viciously the poor potatoes between his thin fingers. "He was a really bad man, a good for nothing that made me do anything while he was only drinking and eating. I was young and very frail, even more than I am today, he took the opportunity to abuse me." Louis stopped to peel to meet his companion's face, who stubbornly refused to look him in the eye.  
"I had nobody to talk to, I was scared and I knew that if I told someone, they would not believe me or there would not care." He stopped talking, loudly blew his nose with a piece of cloth that was lying on the table and put all the peeled potatoes in a large pot with a little water. His back was turned to Louis as he moved them all around with a large wooden spoon.

"Liam was different, he paid attention to me, had to make sure I was okay, if I ate enough. He even took some time to teach me English. I was already under his spell." Louis felt a pulse of tenderness for the young man when he saw the smile, oh how loving which drew his lips. "I never thought that anything could happen between us. He was a strong, tall, tattooed man and I was only a child. Besides, I had been defiled by the French man." He put the heavy lid on the pot, cutting the cloud of vapour. He turned and finally looked Louis in the eyes.

"One day, all the rapes and the beatings finally stopped. Liam saved me." His eyes shone in the darkness of the room, his voice was full of emotion. "I never knew what happened and I don't want to know, all I know is that one day we stopped at a port to refuel food, the next day he did not came to work and I've never seen him on the ship again. By logic, I became the new cook and never again we talked about him."  
"Liam killed him?" The question was out by itself. Louis regretted his words even if they burned his tongue. Zayn looked at him for a moment, there was no resentment in his pupils and he had a little smile on his face.

"Maybe. Maybe he just threatened him. I don't know, I never wanted to know. But he did it for me, to protect me." Zayn was so sure of what he had said, that Louis could not doubt for a second that it was the truth. He was equally certain that Liam would give his life to protect Zayn's. Nevertheless, the question was not entirely answered even if he wanted to be quiet, he could not, he was keen on knowing this thing.  
"But how did you became lovers? ... I mean intimate." Zayn's smile grew more and for a second he opened his mouth with a mischievous look that frightened Louis. He lowered his head. Zayn laughed.

"Okay, if you really want to know. Nothing happened at the beginning, to my biggest disappointment. He spent much more time in the kitchen but he never did more than he did before." He turned back to the fire, his eyes were orange. "Until one day he came behind me as I cooked, he put his two large hands on my hips, he turned me around." The young man turned quickly, eyes merry, replaying the scene. "He put his hand on my cheek, his eyes were so beautiful. He then approached and kissed me." Louis hung on his lips and felt weird imagining the scene, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt he needed to get some air. Zayn had not finished with his explanation and Louis regretted a bit for asking.

"He did not want to go further, he kissed me for hours but never took things further when I was very clear in my intentions. I think he wanted to wait because I was young." He had again his gaze of mischief he had sometimes when he came to whisper something particularly naughty in  Liam's ear. "I took things in hand. One day I went into his room, which we never did before, it was the first time. I felt a bit silly and I hesitated to do so. " Zayn finally noticed Louis' red cheeks and felt a little bad to put his friend in this state, but after all it was him who asked the question.  
"Anyway, enough with the details, that night we slept together for the first time. He put me at ease, he was sweet and it was a magical experience."

Louis did not know what to say, he felt a little silly now, he did not know what to answer. But at the same time, he was even more intrigued. Between his claims and the unfortunate time he had attended one of their lovemaking, he really wondered what could be so magical. He had had sex more than once with his wife, for the sole purpose of giving her a child, and never the experience had been only partially acceptable. He did not understand, despite his red cheeks, he wanted to know more.

"But what abo..." The door opened into a crash that tinkled Louis's ears. Liam came back into the room, which was not surprising but the state in which he was, was. Messy hair, sweaty forehead and rapid breathing. Louis, still seated, catched sight of Zayn rushing to the pirate, the name of the latter on his lips. Liam grabbed with a protective hand his hip and brought him to his side. He looked at his lover then Louis, eyes wide open.

"A Spanish corsair is coming toward us, it will shake outside so you stay in the kitchen and do not go out as long as I'm not back, got it?" Louis shook his head, he already felt his heart beating much stronger, he had not been afraid like this since the attack of his first boat. He did not feel ready to face other pirates, he had great difficulty in supporting those who were on that boat already.  
"Are you going to be okay?" Zayn had a trembling voice, he desperately held Liam's coat, he wouldn't let him go out.

"Jaan, it will be okay, you hear me? I'm not going to do ridiculous actions. You know you're the first thing I think of when I'm out." He closed his eyes and gently rested his forehead against Zayn's. The voices began to climb outside and Louis was frightened, not only for himself but also for Harry. And what if him did ridiculous actions and he found himself injured or worse.

 "Main tumse pyar karta hoon." Zayn muttered, then he kissed the pirate with force. They kissed for a few moments, Zayn finally let Liam disappeared through the door, shutting it behind him. Louis noticed that the young man had tears in his eyes and in that moment he was now absolutely certain that this young man was in love. He was agitated and could not contain himself, constantly moving, again and again checking the potatoes. Outside, the noise had stopped and it was very disturbing. Louis could not even calm the young man because he himself, was hectic. He was worried about Harry. He was the captain, he had to fight, was he good at fencing? Was he fast enough? He was a slow man, perhaps he was already dead. All these questions kept stirring in his head and he was afraid that the door would open to show a face other than Liam's.

 After counting to a thousand, Louis could not stay put. He could not stay standing there, waiting as time passes. He stood up on his two legs and moved toward the door but was stopped by Zayn who seemed even more on edge than him.

 "Where do you think you're going?" He asked, his hair before his eyes, clutching a large knife between his fingers.

"I cannot stay a second longer here doing anything, I have to go see if he's okay." Louis was surprised more than anyone by his own words. In his mind, there was no surprise as to who "he" was standing for. He was worried about Harry and he wanted to make sure he was good. Zayn, one hand against his chest prevented him from going further.

 "Liam told us to wait here, trust him." His voice was so low, Louis saw very well that even the young man doubted, he was afraid. He wanted to protest, but there was something in the eyes of the young man that stopped him. He pulled away and went back to sit on the rickety old wooden chair. A few extra minutes took place in silence, then a rattling noise of iron and low voices resounded, footsteps on the deck. Louis held his breath, praying that Liam appears in the door frame.

 The door slammed against the wall, the sky was gray but clear and blinded Louis. He heard no other noise and heavy iron fell to the ground. His eyes accustomed, he finally saw a familiar face. Liam was even more sweaty than earlier and he had some wounds on his arms but he was fine. He had a big smile on the face when Zayn jumped on him and kissed him passionately. The eyes of Louis fell on the sword of the pirate, it was covered in blood, even the handle was not spared. Suddenly his fear came up. He got up so suddenly from his chair, it sank.

 "Where's Harry?" The tone lively and noisy, he pulled the two lovers out of their reverie, who were kissing like there was no tomorrow. In a normal situation, Louis would have seen and blushed at the sight of Zayn's hand lost in the pants of his lover. Today was nothing normal. Liam lost his smile which panicked the doctor even more. "Liam?!" He yelled.

 "Back in his cabin." Liam admitted, frowning and already looking a little lost in the pleasure, Zayn's hand had not stopped its movement. Louis rolled his eyes up to heaven, these young men had no restraint. He rushed outside.

 On the deck, the rain began to fall. Louis noticed that everything was even more dishevelled than usual, the ropes were long uncoiled. One of them hung miserably on the mast. The sails were dropped and one was torn, held only on the right side, floating with the wind. Pirates ascended one by one on the ship, they were all bedraggled, some had not a scratch, others had marks on their face or on their body, blood stained their clothes. But there was one that seemed to have suffered more than the others. He was dragged to the ground by two comrades who had heavy facial looks. His eyes were closed, mouth bloody, he was missing a hand and he had a red and deep gash in the middle of the chest. Louis' honour indicated him to help him, to try to do something even if the situation seemed critical. His heart was screaming at him to go find Harry, to make sure the man was well. The young man was in full internal crisis. When he saw that the man was put down and a round formed around him, all paying homage to him, Louis understood that the decision was made for him.

 He quickly crossed the deck, zigzagging between weary pirates to reach the cabin of their captain. He rushed through the door and stopped in his track, rapid breathing and eyes wide open. Harry stood in the middle of the room, the skin of his torso uncovered. An almost imperceptible dusting of sweat glistened his muscles. He had numerous tattoos on his body. Drawings made of carbon black and animal glue. Louis had realized that it was a very common trait among sailors and pirates. He found them unsightly, mostly dirty and poorly drawn. Harry however was different. He would not go as far to say that he found them elegant, it was true that some were rather ridiculous but Louis knew there was a story behind each of them. Oddly, he wanted to learn each of these stories. Many had to do with the ocean or ships like the boat on his bicep, the ink on his wrist or the siren who took his forearm. It was not the first time Harry was uncovered before him, it was even too frequently, but this was the first time that Louis allowed himself to watch him. And imagine. His arms were much larger, not hidden by layers of clothing, his back was strong and full of scars, his belly muscles were thin, as drawn by the chalk of an artist. It was simply breathtaking and Louis could not remove from his mind the sensual picture Harry formed there. He had not realized he was standing in the door frame, hand strongly tight around the yellowish copper handle, and mouth open. He looked ridiculous. He shook his head to try to remove his desire.  
Harry, long hair falling over his shoulders, held between his fingers a pocket mirror with a sculpted grip of flowers, painted with a thin paint that started to peel. The mirror was broken in the middle and stained at the extremities which demonstrated its value. With his left hand he held uncomfortably the little thing to look at the back of his right forearm. Louis saw in the small mirror, a long gash that ran from Harry's elbow to his wrist. Blood was still flowing out and it really was not pretty.

Without even announcing his presence, Louis stepped into the room and stood in front of Harry, he seemed surprised to see him here.  
"Sit down." He took the mirror from the pirate's hand and threw it away on the bed. The pirate opened his mouth but Louis hardly gave him time to speak. He rested his hands on the man's chest, ignoring the long shudder through his body, and forced him to sit on the bed He gently grabbed Harry's wrist, turned his arm to observe the wound. It was less deep that he had thought, the blood that covered it was a decoy. It had to be thoroughly cleaned and disinfected before wrapped in a bandage. He made it known to the pirate who shook his head.

"Louis it's useless, I'll be fine." The called one did not even answer, he knew that the pirate would say that. But there was no way he would stay that way, the wound would become infected and after, it would be even harder to treat. He took a glass of water and a bottle of alcohol that was lying around but was never drank. He approached the man, put everything down and sought what he could use as a bandage. He knew he would find no actual medical instruments on this boat so he had to do without. There was in the corner of the room, on a trunk of oak, a colourful pile of fabrics and decorated with flowers, birds, orange leaves, bears and bunnies holding hands and dancing in circles . Louis did not know why Harry piled them up but it did not matter too much when he tore two long strips. It was cotton.

Louis then was back at work, it had been long since he had performed medical procedure and his hands trembled a little. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he touched the thin skin and bulging muscles of the pirate, nothing. First, he cleaned the wound, it was less scary once clean. He then dabbed it with a little alcohol, the drink smelt strong, Louis guessed that it was some eau de vie. Harry clenched his teeth a little to face this ordeal, but overall, he remained silent during the entire operation, watching Louis with a small smile. The doctor, however, had a much worse time treating the young man. Despite the thoroughness of his actions, he was stunned by the presence of the pirate. It was perhaps his skin which was firm under his fingers, his muscles which contracted when he was putting too much pressure on the wound or his smell that filled his nostrils. He could not touch Harry, because if he did not stop, he would make a mistake.

Harry was standing close to him, he had his head bent and he had an expression so gentle on his face. It would be too easy to lean forward and put his lips against his. He could not. He wrapped the wound with cotton strips and made a knot tight enough to prevent it from falling, Harry winced. Though his work was finished and he had absolutely no excuse for touching him, Louis kept his hands against the warm skin of the man, absently stroking the makeshift bandage. But the more he touched and the more the silence persisted between them, the more aware Louis was that something strange and dangerous was forming in his stomach. He already knew that something was going to happen.  
He then rushed to stand up, breaking the moment between them. He busied his hands by putting back in their respective places the previously used objects. He realized, while putting back the bottle on the lean desk full of clutter, that his hands were trembling. His whole body was animated by a strange thrill. As he was turned, he felt without a doubt a presence behind him. He closed his eyes when he felt a hand against his shoulder. It was nice and poked in a new way the flame that burned his skin and heart. He could not bear the slightest gesture from Harry, he would make a terrible mistake. He then violently pulled away from his grip, wanting to run away, but he had nowhere to go. Outside, he could not be alone and the kitchen was certainly occupied by Zayn and Liam. Ironically, they did what Louis prohibited himself from doing.

Harry shot him a hurt look over his shoulder, Louis could not even look at him in the eyes. He then took place on the bed, hands neatly placed on his thighs, keeping his eyes on the ground.  
"Louis." The captain's voice was calm as he approached Louis, the latter saw the high boots of the pirate into his field of vision, he persisted in keeping his eyes down. Harry sighed and crouched down in front of the young man, in such a way that his face was just slightly below his line of sight. He then turned his gaze, for not having to look at his so perfect face. "I'm sorry, Louis. I don't know what I've done but know that I will never hurt you. I promise."

Why was it so hard to resist him? Why could not he just shut up and play the bloodthirsty pirate? Why did he wanted to make Louis succumb?

The young man, slowly looked up to regard the captain. He knew in his heart that he should not, he did not have much resistance to Harry. When again he saw those eyes so green and so sorry, he knew he had lost everything. The moment that fell between them was certainly the strangest but also the most intense that Louis had never lived in all his meagre existence. He knew he was not alone in perceiving it, since the pirate's breathing became difficult as his. It is as if, at the time, breathing had become a superhuman effort and they both preferred to die choke than stopping to look, even for a second.  
Louis knew he had to do something, this moment as beautiful as it is, must have a purpose, develop on something new, something that would change everything.

Harry approached him, weakly, not knowing if the moment was real or if he was the only one to perceive it. His green eyes were analyzing every expression, every movement, every breath to make sure he wasn't doing a mistake. Occasionally, his eyes stopped on his lips. Lips which he had often dreamed of, he wanted to caress with his desperately. Lips he wanted to watch half-open in a moan, shouting his name.

When Louis felt Harry's hot breath against his skin, he closed his eyes, his heart was beating at full speed, he did not know if he would survive, he felt like his heart was going to stop. A surprised sound escaped him when he felt something against his lips, something light. He heard Harry's rapid breathing now, he seemed nervous. Louis frowned and was about to say something when the heat against his lips was more important. He moaned, he blushed.  
Harry's lips were always a rosy shade, and they seemed pristine, almost untouched by any caress. While the rest of his body was scarred, his lips, they had been spared.

Lis was not used to being kissed. It was a display of affection that took place that if Eleanor thought it was necessary. He had been truly kissed only very young, by a girl, who had been promised to him and seemed to like him. They were both young children, were running in large floral gardens of the Tomlinson family, laughing gaily. The girl, Catherine, had jumped on him and kissed him. Louis had felt very ashamed, he ran to his room and wept all night, begging his mother not to force him to marry this woman. She had never listened to him, taking his whining like a child's reaction. Finally, a few years later, this promise was broken when it was heard that the young woman had been deflowered by the son of a farrier.

It was the first time somebody kissed him with such passion and he had trouble keeping up with the kiss, he who was so unaccustomed. It was not unpleasant however, quite the contrary. His head was almost empty, he could not think about anything other than the lips touching his. He had tingling in the toes and his fingers did not want to move. An almost overwhelming heat was in his stomach. Needless to say he was very surprised when Harry opened his mouth and licked his lower lip. He opened two surprised eyes, Harry already looked and he had a little smile on his face, Louis' heart jumped.

The young captain sat up then, his back creaking loudly but still smiling. With his two large hands, he gently pushed Louis so he found himself lying on the bed. The young man felt very guilty all of a sudden, he did not know why he was doing this, why he was doing nothing to stop it. What he did and what was going to happen were totally against his religion and Louis did not know what to think. Harry took off his black leather boots then his trousers in moments, he looked at the pirate with an interested eye and red cheeks. Harry wore no breeches. Between his muscular thighs, his manhood stood long and hard. Louis looked away, looking for something other than that human genitals that genuinely frightened him.

Totally naked, Harry climbed onto the bed, forcing Louis to further spread his thighs, the man however refused to look into his eyes, his own eyes were fixed on the porthole and the cloudy sky. The two man's hands were place on either side of Louis' face, he was now looking intently at the protruding veins that marked his hands. He was completely covered by the heat of the pirate above him, his skin a few inches from him. And what he guessed to be the man's genitals were gently rubbed and in repetition  against Louis' still dressed leg. He gave a very embarrassing moan when wet and warm lips kissed his neck. Then, to his surprise, the wet tongue of the pirate traced its way there, Louis jaw fell open, it was not supposed to be enjoyable.  
Harry kissed and nibbled his ear lobe, Louis felt increasingly compressed in his heavy pants. Harry lowered himself on his elbows, even closer now, with his right hand, he turned his face so he looked into his eyes. His green eyes seemed huge, full of a passion that Louis had never met before.

He felt that his cheeks were burning, and he could not look away now. The pirate's eyes were fixing him in his place. With his thumb, he gently tugged on his lower lip until he understood and he opened his mouth. Harry smiled and lowered  just what it took for their mouths to be linked again. This time he entered his tongue into Louis' mouth and stroked it with his tongue. It was... strangely pleasant. Too much for Louis, who could not stop. His body betrayed him, he demanded more, he was moaning. He did not know what to do with his hands and so left them wandering on the sheets, clinging, pulling.

A new sensation, sharp, lightning went through his body when Harry's hips crashed slowly, painfully against his. He let out a loud groan, very sharp, very surprised. A peak of pleasure had gone through him. Harry didn't stop kissing or rubbing against him. His whole body was on alert, he did not understand how he got the pleasure, or why. With a sly hand, Harry pushed up Louis' dirty and poorly maintained blouse, stroking discreetly the trembling belly of the young man who feared fainting. His hand kept on its way, until it reached his raised nipple, he stroked and pinched it once. Louis could not kiss him anymore, it was too much, the young man had no idea why he was touching him that way and particularly, why his body responded to it. He was breathing hardly, he ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

The pirate took advantage of that to torture his neck again, sucking the skin he found there, making Louis moan painfully and leaving a beautiful red mark. He went down again, until his mouth met the young man's hard nipples, he took it in the mouth and let his tongue trace its outline. Louis' back arched beautifully, his penis swelled more and he shouted with pleasure. It was too much for him. He touched Harry for the first time since they began, pressing on his shoulders for him to move back.

"Harry, stop, stop." His voice was urgent, Harry sat up immediately, eyes big as saucers. Louis noticed that he had sweat on his neck and forehead and on his chest which made the butterfly lying there shine. He was red, breathing heavily. And as for his penis, Louis blushed even more when he saw it. It was up against his belly, red at the tip and glossy with a transparent liquid, twitching a bit. It looked painful.

"What's wrong ?" His voice was even worse than usual and it stirred something in him, his own virility shaking.  
"It's too much, I cannot handle all of this." Louis was ashamed to admit this, even if he did not understand why. Harry looked him in the eye, frowning, looking for something. The realization flashed on his face, he replaced himself over Louis, forcing him to look at him.

"You've never touched yourself?" He asked him in a whisper, as if they were sharing secrets. Louis knew very well what he was implying even though he did not say it in words. The answer was no, it was against his religion, he was not letting his evil impulses get to him. He had succeeded so far, he felt that tonight it was not going to happen. He had sinned so much as he had crossed every barrier forbidden one by one, voluntarily. He shook his head sheepishly, Harry with his delicate fingers caressed his cheek with a tender smile.

"Let me show you how?" He resumed his kissing on Louis' cheek then in his neck, his shoulder. Louis was torn. First, his faith forbade him to do this for a hundred different reasons and he was terrified. Fear of not liking it, fear of pain, fear of doing or saying something wrong. But he was also terribly excited and curious to finally cross the forbidden, feel what had always been discouraged. And Harry kept on kissing him, moving his tongue over his skin, bringing him pleasure with the slightest gesture. The decision was taken since the beginning without him knowing.

"Okay." He whispered in a groan, eyes closed. Soon, the mouth and the warmth of Harry disappeared, he felt his hands going down along his pelvis, raising the hair on his body. They stopped at his trousers, he opened his eyes again when his breeches were uncovered. He was certainly as red as a tomato plant.  
A bump deformed the front of the garment and Harry watched it intently, Louis had only one desire and that was to hide. The captain stroked the bump with a sure hand and Louis moaned louder than he had up to this point. Smiling at his reaction, Harry then hurried off and remove his trousers, fully revealing his body. Louis did not like to be exposed so he wrapped his arms around his frail body. Harry gently stroked his thighs and lost his soft smile when he noticed that Louis was uncomfortable.

"You're beautiful, you're perfect. I actually don't know how I could resist that long without touching you." He then leaned down against Louis, firmly kissing him. Louis didn't know what to make of the whole situation, but it was nice. The weight and warmth of Harry on him, his smell, his mouth against his, the sounds they emitted one and the other. The moment was enjoyable. Almost calm.  
It was not at all calm when Harry's hand wrapped around his cock, he uttered a cry of delight, it was a liberation he did not know he needed. He began to stroke member from tip to base, giving a little more attention to the head, massaging it with his thumb. Louis had his mouth wide open, he could not breathe properly. His chest was shaking with small tremors. His reason having left, he touched the pirate's chest and muscled belly, moaning more. It was too much and it was so good.

He made a noise of complaint when Harry straightened, keeping away his body, so pleasant to the touch. He silenced him with a quick kiss. The man grabbed his hand with great delicacy and came to rest on his member that had been neglected for so long. Louis watched but did nothing, he had no idea what he was supposed to do. However, he tightened his hand around the cock, it was strange, hot, hard. He looked at the pirate, a little panicked.  
"Do it to me, okay?" He started back the movement on Louis who closed his eyes and bit his lip, he nodded and began to keep pace with the pirate. He did not really know what he was doing, it was probably very awkward and he just hoped he brought pleasure to Harry in the same way the man brought him pleasure. With each passing second, every touch, every moan of the two men, Louis allowed himself more and more to let go. He let himself forget for a moment that he should not do that and accorded himself the right to enjoy the experience.

Harry's hand on him, quickened its movement, the volume of Louis moans was rising. He had never felt this way, a pleasure so intense. His thighs trembled, he was struggling to keep control of his hand. And a burning sensation that was strange in his lower belly brought him back to the moment, he felt that he was going to piss himself. He wanted to warn Harry, ask him to stop but it was too late. With a sudden cry, he felt a relief and a few seconds after that, a rather thick white liquid was released on his stomach. That did not stop, he wasn't touching Harry anymore, he had no strength. This feeling of intense pleasure once dispelled, a peaceful tranquillity seized Louis' body.  
Harry fell back on Louis and kissed him hurriedly, touching himself quickly, dropping heavy and almost pained grunts. Louis allowed himself to be kiss, caress, he was tired but satisfied. Harry winced a short groan and also released himself on Louis' belly. While trying to catch his breath, the pirate kissed his forehead before collapsing on the bed beside him.

Louis stood there, not knowing what to think. He slowly rose to the surface, he was cold and the white fluid was drying on his skin. It was unpleasant. His ideas also became more clear, very quickly, guilt replaced the sense of tranquillity. In one evening, one second, he'd ruin his pious life. He had just ruin everything. He had betrayed his God. He felt the tears that were about to fall when he heard and felt Harry's body that was leaving him. The man stood up in all his naked glory, not caring a second. He reached for a piece of fabric, it was a square of greyish linen. He used it to gently wipe Louis' belly. He stroked his hair so it was out of his face.

He then took his place on the bed, still stripped naked, his body aligned to Louis'. He slid the blanket over their naked bodies and extinguished the oil lamp. Lying comfortably, already about to fall asleep, Harry put his arm around Louis' waist and placed his nose in his neck, breathing in once strongly. Soon his breathing became regular and Louis knew he was asleep. He could not. Too many questions, fears, questioning crossed his mind. He still did not know what had gone through his mind, why he had let himself do that and why he had agreed to touch the other man. Just now, he did not know why he wouldn't pull off of the captain's grip. He slept deeply, his heavy and ticklish breathing against his neck, his hand loose against his waist. If he wanted, Louis could easily push it and sleep on his side of the bed, without them having to touch as they did before. Yet he did not do it because he enjoyed this position.

Minutes passed, the night progressed and Louis could not fall asleep, he listened to the slow breathing of the pirate, who had not let go of him for a single second. He even slid one of his long legs between Louis' and spoke occasionally in his sleep, which Louis thought it was far too sweet. He stopped fighting himself mentally a few hours ago, too exhausted. He wondered now why he had been taught lies. Younger, he was told that sexuality was a bad thing, a dangerous experiment that could send him straight to hell. But he was also told that two men could never fall in love, yet Liam and Zayn had managed to prove him otherwise. Her mother told him that intimate relationships did not have to be nice, they simply had to serve to conceive children. He did not understand, nothing made sense!

Annoyed, he turned to the side, pushing at the same time Harry, who fell on his back and let out an almost animal sound. Louis smiled. He watched the peaceful and asleep face of the captain. The little light that went in the room did not allow him to see much, but he could not help smiling at him. He looked so young when he was relaxed, when he had to worry about nothing. Louis had the hope that he was also the reason why the young man was so relaxed. After all, he himself, if it wasn't for the guilt of breaking all the codes of religion, was rather quiet.

Harry was fast asleep and fatigue began to take Louis, so that he allowed himself one last weakness. Gently, he ran a hand through Harry's hair, it was a wish he had had in a long time. It was pleasant to the touch, softer than he had thought. Already on that path, he gave himself time to draw the fine lines of his face and his raw body. Admiring this body so beautiful to look at, he finally managed to formulate what bothered him much. Why was it so good, if it is so bad?

However, he would care later, letting himself enjoy the moment. Tonight he would sin and tomorrow he would do his best to repent. Here in this bed he began to accept as his, with the pale blue light of the night, against the warm and robust body of the pirate he appreciated more than he would like, he allowed himself to confess, but only in a whisper, Harry is really beautiful.


End file.
